Storm – Hour Nineteen
Storm
Salty air blows around in circles
The breeze picks up seaweed from sand
The current reacts to the gusts
By crashing to the shore
Seafoam swirls the rocks
Shells dig in deep
Safe from harm
Black clouds
Storm
Hour 19 2023
War Zone
I’m in a bunker,
sandbags piled all around,
barely able to keep my head
up, for fear of incoming rounds.
I’ve taken some direct hits, already,
and may or may not be able to
withstand more. Could you help me,
carry a message back to headquarters?
I need reinforcements, ammunition,
and yes, food and water. Otherwise
I may not make it out alive. Surely
they haven’t forgotten me, stranded here.
Hunting Life
Well gone are those feary
while we think a living prey
will live soon without a baby
when killing seize their destiny
Fisherman goes for fishing
catching salmon with netting
working the clock like a king
shorting breathe of fins living
Hunters matches to the forest
holding raffle to shoot at sight
any animals that cross the rout
be it a lion a dear or big elephant
fierce lion hunt the zebras
deadly wolf strike buffalos
fearful tiger tear the rabbits
fiery hawks hook the chickens
Hour 15 prompt
WOMAN
A woman is an angel on earth
Shamefully only a very few know her worth
Every woman is a combination of beauty and brains
She can bravely walk through any pain
Every woman is unique in her skills
And she can master any work if she wills
A woman can perfectly balance both office and home
At times she is even more knowledgeable than Google Chrome
A woman can even take up arms
If someone ever tries to harm
She is always trying to protect
Her kith and kin from every problem or insect.
A woman is more valuable than silver and gold,
She is priceless even if she is a century old
A woman is more colourful than a rainbow,
She can light up any house with her glow
BY
SHREYA SURAJ
Hour Nineteen – Of Scottish Summers
Hour Nineteen – Text prompt
Write a poem describing your surroundings as inarticulately as possible but maintaining just a tiny bit of the truth.
Of Scottish Summers
If you live in Glasgow
and look out of the window,
You’d see all that is to be,
Shouting out from every tree.
Lush grass from last night’s rain
in contrast to the leaf’s refrain.
Apples ripened, begin to fall,
past their prime, harvested all.
Hedges are already thinning somewhat.
Still bushy and green but not a lot.
Cherry trees that once were pink
have turned to green, they make you think
of the colour splash splendour of Fall.
yellow, orange, red, pink and all.
Imagine the Scottish Gods get drunk
with paintbrushes, they goes all punk
Unreal colours, as far as eyes travel
Neon reds cling to branches, then unravel.
Gentle late summer days are nearing the end,
But hey,
there’s awesome autumn around the bend.
Redaction
I don’t know what I am (redacted word)
some comic (redacted word) this is
Playing with words for some (redacted word)
Unbidden, unseen, unknown.
I am (redacted word).
“Spiked Color Wheel”
Hour Nineteen: Ekphrastic photo response
Ruddy russet and golden field
School colors somewhere
Sky blued to match dolphin’s birthplace.
Can a sky escape from clouds?
Can one come down this single road and leave?
Not till nightfall
and even then, the colors
will vibrate.
9pm. Poem 19. Gramma’s Bedroom (an haiku)
9pm. Poem 19.
Gramma’s Bedroom (an haiku)
Stripes, flowers, stuffed toys
memories of everything
in Gramma’s bedroom.
Winter Walk
My boots are thick
But I can still feel
Crunch of frozen water
Snow packing beneath my feet
The cold bites at my nose
Tries to seep into my gloves
My breath a smokey array
Of frozen moisture
White specks begin to fall
Quietly from the sky
Sticking to the ground
Sticking to me
All around me
There is a kind of quiet
One you only find
I the dead of winter
With the silence
Comes a strange kind of peace
Anticipation
For the coming Spring
Chronic
The worst part of all the fuss
is never knowing when the circus comes to play.
The whirling carousel vertigo and warped fun-mirror migraines
post no schedule and schedule no warning
and leave no room for proper function in the ring,
despite the ever-increasing demand for perfect attention.
If I faint before the audience, don’t say I didn’t warn you.
(Hour 19)