Tall Tales
“Tall Tales”
burning light
from crystal skulls
the Poetess, picks up
her quill
words, trickle
from muses
cards chosen
through messages
clarities revealed
compliments given
her eyes well
talent they claim
beautifully interesting
Hour 19 – In My Room
In My Room
I have the whole world here
Next to a magic window
that looks in on places near and far
The ancestors look down from the wall
On an array of chemical concoctions
waiting to be ingested
A minor forest sends out tendrils
Under an example Edison’s invention
And everywhere, dead trees
Pressed and printed and placed on shelves
Escape hatches out of my universe.
Prompt 19 – Nature’s Enigma
Image Courtesy of Pixabay
Amidst a place where silence reigns,
A tale unfolds in whispered strains,
A realm of splendor, so they say,
But truth, perhaps, may slip away.
The sky above, a painted scheme,
A canvas vast, or so it seems,
Yet in its hues, a subtle jest,
A fiction woven in the west.
The trees, they stand in still repose,
In shades of green, their story goes,
But secrets hidden ‘neath their bark,
A myth, a riddle in the dark.
The river’s flow, a gentle stream,
Its waters gleam, or so they deem,
A liquid ribbon, winding by,
Yet truth’s reflection, one can’t deny.
Creatures here, they claim to dwell,
In this enchanting, mystic spell,
With fur and feather, scale and fin,
A tapestry where truths begin.
To capture this, in words, they try,
Yet falsehoods in their tales may lie,
For nature’s beauty, veiled and shrewd,
Holds truths and lies, both well-imbued.
So, with a hint of truth and lore,
The storytellers weave, and more,
A world obscured, in mystery,
Where lies entwine with truth’s decree.
Antoinette LeRoux © 2023
Hour 19- Where am I?
A big long thing you sit on is located to my right
A couch? A sofa? A chesterfield? A bed?
A bed….if only, then I would say goodnight!
To my left is another item, where my dog curls up and sleeps.
Oh wait, it’s a concept called a chair, I think? I’m thinking heaps.
Across from me there is a stand and on top a moving picture frame
A VCR? A CD player? Xbox? Maybe a television is its claim to fame.
We have a few tables that are set around the room.
On top of them are pet rocks and DnD books, imagination in bloom.
This room it is a comfy place where I spend lots of time.
I think this lack of sleeps caught up and made me lose my mind.
Prompt 19
There are things everywhere
thrown about
Next to baseboards
on wooden floors
on living room couches
i place my clean clothes
after folding
Professional
I am a mid-life sandwich
You can see me coming.
A weighed-down superhuman,
worn out at the edges.
I’d like to call myself a pensioner,
with freedoms whilst still healthy,
to live more riotously,
to explore
but duty pulls me.
My wide portfolio profession of different roles.
My unshakeable responsibility.
It’s not funny.
Enveloped (Prompt 19)
Surrounded, I am, by
flotsam of my life
eclectic collection of
memory-inducing
trinkets and treasures
fishing lures hanging
from driftwood
vintage, autographed
transistor radio
antique wooden crate
shelves
cassette tape deck
I used for my first radio
interviews
Dad’s old Scotttie-dog
letter holder, and a
lamp and a desk blotter
dating to 1935
sitting just beneath my
laptop and stand
My hand carved
(by me) walking stick
hangs from a nail
as do Gramps’
binoculars
Bill Kewley’s
early 60s Stetson
And
Baseballs!
plain, worn, old;
autographed –
my favorite player, EVER
(a framed 8 X 10, too)
my 1967 t-ball team
Provenance of each
of these I can
recite off the top of
my head
dollar value of it all
miniscule
thought processes
they can trigger
enliven
inspire cannot be
underestimated
though people have
tried
When my time here
is up
my children
grandchildren
will find new careers
as museum curators
via OJT here at
The (Basement) Louvre
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2023
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd
Mordant murmurings #19
Surrounded by mundanity
Constricted by mediocrity
Suffocated by mendacity
Given to morbidity
Absence of magnanimity
Manacled to monstrosity
Making marks mechanically
To erase again as if magically
Leering misanthropy
Unable to shake the maddening malaise
Being a teacher causes malice in me.
CHARGED (hour xii)
Supplications fill
the closet, potent and live
Fill me on entry
+Inspired by the text prompt
Hour 19- I Have Never Run a Marathon
I have never run a Marathon,
but I written through a few.
I have struggled through the last miles.
My legs and back aching.
Newfound self-hatred.
Marathoners of the running kind
have water passed to them.
I am responsible for my own coffee and food.
And yes, I am drinking some water.
I am making a point to do so.
I have never run a marathon.
I have never pushed to come in second or 90th or 275th.
But I have pushed through poems.
Lots of them,
sword fighting Muses,
jumping over thesauruses,
searching for inner strength and inner will
in an aching soul.
I have written marathons.
Tried to find new subjects,
new focuses,
new ways of doing old things.
I have never run a marathon,
but I know what it feels like
to be engulfed in one.