The Poetry Marathon

“just be still, and listen”

Be it morning time
When sun does rise
Across the golden plains
And ducks and doves and hawk alike
Take flight unto the sky
Just be still, and listen

Or noontime when
the lunch bell rings
Singing a happy tune
Of food to come and a
Sated tongue
Just be still, and listen

And on the eve of the brightest day
As Ladybugs and June bugs scurry
Away to find a place their heads
To rest for tomorrow’s day is longer still
The day a life to a whippoorwill
Just be still, and listen

Into the night the creatures call
To find their one true love
Archaic voices fill the dark
The owl does hoot and the raven it caws
From forested hill to city park
Just be still, and listen

So when the morning light returns
Again to bathe the Earth in glory
Remind yourself and those you love
Don’t rush, don’t fret let’s
Take a breath and
Just be still, and listen

White Walls

POEM 18

On the night I arrived in great need of rest, wanting to shed the weight of my skin. I had been carrying the picture of this room around in my pocket. I could sleep for a week here.

Although comfort is cold in this blinding bright space?

Its shiny whiteness could have its light doused, diminished some.

But still, I could do a drunken waltz on the hardwood floors and inebriated with fatigue, ball up like a cat in the mommasan chair.

I brought a thick downy blanket, but no curtains for the bare, frameless windows bringing in the night.

The walls in this room are like pools of milk and so is the bed. Me too tired to swim–I might drown here.

 

 

Listen

I talk for hours
and fill the time
But I want to hear
more from you.

If I shut up and listen
Will you please share
what’s on your mind
and in your heart?

I promise you
I’m listening

HOUR 19 The Vicious Voila’

The Vicious Voila’

 

 

Amidst hazel light of candle luminosity,

Amongst the array of sordid creations,

Mercy entreated, but shall not be shown,

Her own predispositions seldom cloned.

 

She requests a respite from the hand that feeds,

Always pleading the case of subservience,

But my own internal undertaking soon to fulfillment,

All I can do is endure her savory and inflictive tones.

 

My own metamorphosis soon upon us,

Valkyrie’s descent into madness vital to my cause,

The corruption of her body and mind,

A lasting gift in purification’s form.

 

Slowly I cater to her physical needs,

Dwindling ever more at the flick of my whim,

Cautious in the shattering the psyche,

All aiding my revelatory becoming.

 

Though wheelchair bound and I.V. drip aided,

My dark being nurtures her transition,

Loving and solemn, I don’t say a word,

Deprivation of conversation a useful device.

 

Great timing upon us as I finally speak,

‘My sweet dark angel in depths of sinister desire,

I removed your imperfections, unsightly, not needed.

I commenced with your febrile leg, Voila’’.

 

Just Be Still and Listen Hour 18 Poem 18

Just be still and Listen,

Quiet… Shhhhhh…..

Listen the sounds of silence,

Appreciate the stillness in the moment,

Breathe in, breathe out,

Close your eyes and listen,

To your inner-self,

What do you say?

Can you hear you?

No? Just be still and listen,

He’s talking to you,

Guiding your path,

Do you hear him?

He’s your father, let him in,

Just be still and listen.

Be Still … Listen – hour 18

The best part … editing

I refuse a prompting

then I fight with the thing

and then I’m still, stopping

I listen to the ring

in my ears, a bird sings

just halting, and hearing

all the rhyming it brings

and then a brief tussling

my critic is fussing

the muse is now losing

yet I see a cool posting

of others’ boasting

turning dead words into hatchlings

a wall, I’m now climbing

my ears are a buzzing

be still, listen, and learning

poem’s end is now nearing

and what you were fearing

is now happily ending.

 

– Sandra Johnson, 6/27/21

“…just be still, and listen” Credit: Shlokla Shankar.

 

 

Still Thinking

When words don’t come

And you bang your head

And stare till blood

Blots your papery vision

And the nib pricks your skin

A drop of delicious blue

And you think so hard

But words don’t come

So you keep your pen

Until words do come.

Hour 18 – Just Be Still, and Listen

Just Be Still, and Listen…

Come, sit here with me awhile.
No need to speak, little one.
No rush. Listen to the hush.
I have stories true to tell.

Beach party

The coconut tree,

The bright sea and,

The sunny sun,

Give so fun.

In the beach party,

We have hot tea,

And watch bright sea,

The coconut water plucking is not a matter.

We watch bright sea,

And,the buzzing honey bee.

We take sun bath,

Which makes fells good.

In the beach party,

We have fun day.

Hour 7: Christmas

“Christmas is the one day, all is merry,

The whole family, gathers together,

Opening gifts,

Sharing stories,

On Christmas all is merry and well.

 

No bad thoughts,

No bad moments,

No bad feelings,

No anger,

No disputes,

None of this is, allowed on Christmas.

 

The joy of giving, during Christmas,

Is unlike any other joy in the world,

For that is why, Christmas is also called, the day of giving.

 

Enjoy Christmas,

The one day all is merry and well,

The one day all is merry and well.