{"id":17854,"date":"2016-08-13T09:48:40","date_gmt":"2016-08-13T13:48:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=17854"},"modified":"2016-08-13T17:52:02","modified_gmt":"2016-08-13T21:52:02","slug":"paradox-themes-on-the-end-prompt-1-hour-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2016\/08\/paradox-themes-on-the-end-prompt-1-hour-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Paradox (themes on “the end” prompt 1 hour 1)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Paradox<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Beginning at the end\u2026<\/p>\n

a snake<\/p>\n

eating its tail…<\/p>\n

moments circle<\/p>\n

brightly<\/p>\n

through my mind \u2013<\/p>\n

twirling, red-hot tipped sticks<\/p>\n

just pulled from the centre of the fire \u2013<\/p>\n

clicking through a roulette wheel of<\/p>\n

memories<\/p>\n

and<\/p>\n

the<\/p>\n

pin<\/p>\n

stops<\/p>\n

at<\/p>\n

that empty chair<\/p>\n

in my former classroom\u2026<\/p>\n

the one where<\/p>\n

he sat on that Thursday<\/p>\n

for Social Studies<\/p>\n

but<\/p>\n

vacated that Monday<\/p>\n

for English<\/p>\n

and every class after that<\/p>\n

ad infinitum.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

His funeral,<\/p>\n

the following Friday<\/p>\n

was beautiful \u2013<\/p>\n

as beautiful as a Friday funeral can be<\/p>\n

for a 16 year old<\/p>\n

bright-souled, impish boy.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

That end nearly brought<\/p>\n

my end –<\/p>\n

but for the living.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I realise that\u2026<\/p>\n

I remember that,<\/p>\n

in the shadow of a new end:<\/p>\n

the smiling and waving goodbye<\/p>\n

(while my heart breaks and wails)<\/p>\n

to my eldest child,<\/p>\n

my first son,<\/p>\n

as he travels<\/p>\n

half way across the country<\/p>\n

from me<\/p>\n

to seek his fortunes\u2026<\/p>\n

I remember that<\/p>\n

endings<\/p>\n

are beginnings,<\/p>\n

too.<\/p>\n

(c) R. L. Elke 2016<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Paradox   Beginning at the end\u2026 a snake eating its tail… moments circle brightly through my mind \u2013 twirling, red-hot tipped sticks just pulled from the centre of the fire \u2013 clicking through a roulette wheel of memories and the pin stops at that empty…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":712,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17854","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17854","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/712"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17854"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17854\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23196,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17854\/revisions\/23196"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17854"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17854"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17854"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}