The Poetry Marathon

“You connect to your fans, like stars to a night’s sky.”

“ You connect to your fans, like stars to a night’s sky.”

  

You connect in the eyes of a fan

waiting in line with me at Meet & Greet.

It’s her first time meeting you and I encourage her to go to more shows.

You connect in the eyes of a girl from New Jersey at City Winery in DC.

I mention next shows and tell her to try the VIP.

That’s you this pull in the universe,

I never get tired of seeking.

Relive my first meeting through other fan’s eyes on repeat

at each and every Meet & Greet.

Poem 17 – Books Versus People

Books were safer than other people anyway,*
Solace in a social storm
Gentler than judgemental stares and glares
Full of good friends and adventure
So much better at keeping secrets
And most of the time far, far more interesting

* – With credit to Neil Gaiman

A Short Self-Portrait in Earth

My bare toes, like roots, dig into soft peat
And I have caught music in the brass bound to my bones.
I have let cold chalk waters run through my fingers and wind into my clothes.

I have picked up quartz from the mountaintop
And stained my ragged trainers red on western clay.
I do not know what land I’ll steep in next, but I know I’ll meet that earth in happy days.

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Catch-up poem from prompt nineteen.
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Hour 22 – Awake, O Sleeper

Wake Up

the visible becomes light
Awake, O sleeper,
Arise from the dead
and Christ will shine on you.”

Wake yourself,
you who have drunk from
the hand of the LORD
the bowl
the cup of staggering.

Awake, awake,
put on your strength
for no more shall come in the unclean

Arise, your light has come,
and the glory of the LORD
the sun of righteousness
has risen upon you.
with healing in its wings.

Wake from sleep.
For salvation is nearer to us now
than when we first believed.

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A found poem based on these Bible verses: Ephesians 5:14; Isaiah 51:17; Isaiah 52:1; Isaiah 60:1; Malachi 4:2; and Romans 13:11.

Hour 22

This is what I imagine

Being a zombie feels like

Or a ghost reliving the same nightmare

Night after night after night

There is something supernatural

Something sinister about hour 22

You know the end is near

But it is out of your grasp

Your feet are being held down

Your brain screams for release

But no one can hear you

You reach out but there is nothing

to hold onto

You can do nothing but wait

Write and wait

Wait and write

The clock ticks

Ever so slowly

A time warp

A poet’s loop

A poem, on top of another poem, on top of another poem

Wait and write, write and wait

Try not to let the clock

ticking and tocking

control you.

Hour 22: Sneaky Sun

With bleary eyes I peer around me, certain it can’t be true.
It has been a surreal night, but I have had a lot to do.
Wake up!
I tiptoe through the house, quiet as I can be
Make my way to the windows, to see what I can see.
Hark! What is that? A glow coming from the east?
Alas it is the sun, what a glowing beast.
Wake up!
It must be suffering from insomnia to be awake so soon
You silly, sneaky sun to take time away from the moon.

now…

come on

come on

wipe the sweat

so close

don’t pay any mind dear

it’ll be okay

what are a few minutes

dark bathroom

pirate

what is it all for??

huh?

come on

come on

come on

so close

dont slow now

Morning

Morning at the Eastern Gate

a symphony of song and sweet

Roosters crow in the distance behind the gentle dee dee of that my favorite little bird

lovesongs to the sun

it’s the crows who take great care to break the gentle din— summoning me from slumber

Wake UP

Wake UP it’s today!
and my mind and body say…

sleep

sleep some more there is lots in the day where the sun already shines on the other side of lids you should let close

Sleep is love

HEY!–Hour 22

Splashing down my neck

It’s an ice water haiku pouring

Now WAKE UP!

Elastic Limit (Hour 22)

I left my body,

running along the race lane.

Now time to return.

 

 

Written from Hour 22 text prompt.