Poem 18 – Just Be Still and Listen
Just be still and listen
To the dew on blades of grass
To the twinkling of stars above
And to the glow of the moon
Reflected as it is off the river
Listen to the rain falling on leaves
And the shuffle of the forest in wind
Listen to your breath as you feel
Your chest rise and fall
The synchronised symphony
Of existence, unfolding around you
Try It, You’ll Like It (Hour 20, A Nonet Poem)
“You want me to take a bite of WHAT?”
“Are you even sure that it’s dead?”
“But what if it bites me back?”
My questions kept coming.
From chopsticks laced with
wasabi, he
shoved sushi
down my
throat.
(A nonet poem is comprised of nine lines, where line one begins with nine syllables, line two has eight syllables, and so forth, in a continually decreasing fashion until the final line is only one syllable long. This gives the reader the visual image that the poem is slowly disappearing.)
Hour 21: Ode to the Marathon
You began with the end
When I was prepped and primed
You carried me effortless
Through your prompts
Music and lyrics and images
I burned the hours
Breezing through barriers,
Keeping time
Until the half point
When some would stop
You shoved me through my second breath,
I fell into the arms of Morpheus,
Left my determination with you,
drowned in the River Lethe.
Waking before sunrise,
You showed me the finish dawning,
A sliver of you lighting my way.
Do I have the juice to cross the line?
Will you inspire me to burst out
With a new beginning?
Hour 22 – Secret Place (image prompt)
There’s a secret place I keep
With a hammock for me to sleep
and some books in a display shelf
Protected from the elements and hidden in a crevice in the wood.
The hammock net is stored away
With the books in the display
and hide from humans the secret place
It’s not my land but it’s protected
By both government and
Tall rambling trees
hiding a path
Marked only by a threadbare bath towel.
I love my secret place
But I can never find it.
when the poet is assigned her own wake up call
hey,
you,
you with the magic,
wake up!
there’s things to do
poems to write
verses to spew
you’re gonna need to greet the sun pretty soon
don’t brew more coffee
you’ve had your last call with diet coke
wake up!
fake up, if you have to
we can count the poems after this
on two thumbs
finish what you started
channel Mary Oliver
dig out your thesaurus
say your special prayers
and be like Captain Kangaroo:
good morning, Captain
wake up!!!
you’re almost there
you’re almost bare
you’re almost sleeping under there
wake up!!!!
take up these final steps
make up these last few peps
shake up these closing arguments
break up with Johnny Depp
(you might be dreaming, pinch yourself)
wake up!!
abracadabra
alakazam
you’re almost to the finish line
you can’t disappoint Pam
right now, everyone is named Pam, OK?
wake up!!!
wake up Thecla
wake up the neighbors
wake up those last poems you harbor
wake up like you’re in labor
wake up!!!!
hey girlfriend
you with the magic
don’t let this marathon end tragic
wake up!!!!
Dear Karma
Dear Karma
Trust that I believe in you
fear your power to know all,
define everything I have ever
thought, done, expected.
I bow to you, Karma.
I pray every day that
my fate lies safe in your hands,
I look for happy rebirths as
my intents are good
and so my karma is good.
I also believe that you
will protect me from those
who wish me harm, or disease,
or dead. I beg you, keep them
away from me.
Punish them tenfold
for their misdeeds, thoughts,
and intents. Boomerang their
greed, jealousy, and avarice
back at them ten times over.
Yes, I do trust you to do
right by me, Karma. I know
you are busy. But, I think
you’ve forgotten a few people.
Here’s a list.
~ J R Turek
June 27, 2021 Hour 22
(Hour 14 of 24) “eye espy”
this unblinking oculus
unnerves me
violates my privacy
this all-seeing orb
might know me better
than I myself
this indefatigable globus
an unflagging purveyor of secrets
the eye that never sleeps
© 2021 S Phua
The Knave (it is time) #thepoetrymarathon #prompthourtwentytwo
He has needed you from the moment he first saw you. At first the attention was light and flirtatious and you thought it gave you joy. Then he became more demanding, wanting to walk by your side and watch you while you were sleeping…till he became a part of your life. He came along for movies and parties, even accompanied your family on vacations. Till you realised you are only one of his many conquests. He was hurting you and you had been fool enough not to see it. He is eating into you, bit by bloody bit.
So you told him to leave.
But he won’t.
He sneaks back into your life with false promises and placebos and you cannot get rid of him. As much as you dread it, you know you have to do something about him.
***
It is evening, you are quietly sitting at the water’s edge, deep in contemplation. It is time.
You rise, the water slides off your body as you shake out your hair and pull on a pair of shorts over your wet swimsuit. It is completely still and the wind has dropped, nothing stirs. From behind you, you can hear the sounds of the children as they animatedly discuss their day, bits of music stain the air. You turn towards the sounds but pause and turn away following the narrow path among the overgrown grass. There is no birdsong, only an ominous silence as the stony old path twists and turns away from the house biting into your bare feet … till you reach the ruin of the old out-house that no one ever visits. You climb the few steps, noticing how the weeds have choked the entire stair and think nothing of it. Stones, bricks and broken walls greet you and you enter the cavernous dark. You know there are snakes that inhabit the ruins and you are afraid, but you know you cannot turn away. Not now.
You make your way in the semi-darkness till you reach the short stair-case. A narrow shaft of light falls from between the leaves of the Banyan tree that has made its home on the outer wall. You climb the stairs slowly, your heart is beating wildly even as the stench of decay assaults you. You know what you will find.
***
There he is in front of you. Tall, misshapen and just as grotesque and ugly as you remember. To think that at one time you found him attractive. He looks at you pleadingly, his eyes glimmer hope. The chains clank as he pulls forward but you know they will not give. He rattles his chains; he is, all at once, demanding and pleading and you almost forget and give in. But something stops you. Maybe it is the recollection that he now threatens your world, your very existence? He’s always needed you, he is saying, he will never leave you.
But you finally have him locked up. You know that if he becomes strong he will once again run your life, he will once again ruin the life you have been clawing to reclaim. For, if he is strong, he will break the chains that bind him.
You look at him with loathing. Even pity.
***
So what will you do with this Knave, this killer, this terrorist who would riddle your home with bullets if he could?
Will you feed him?
Or will you let him starve to death?
It’s time to act. Now.
Wake up, Gita!
I know its Sunday, but the hours will mot keep
Don’t waste this day in unfeeling sleep.
There’s so much to do, much to see
Birds building nests, although the trees
Stand undressed in the yard.
On weekdays you have jobs to do
This morning, you can roll in the dew,
Drink from a raindrop caught in a leaf,
Wonder at the cicada’s unerring belief
That seventeen years are gone. Why
Would you want the world to pass you by
When you can shout and laugh and cry
Out loud to the clear blue sky?