The Poetry Marathon

Stardust

stardust born, exploding supernova,
embers in my blood, my skin, my hair, the earth
beneath my feet, my place called home,
whether I search the distant night-time sky
or turn quietly inward, I feel the pull
calling me back to stardust.

Cleansing

so high and mighty, four colossal chandeliers
unreachably distant, magnificent in their glory
each festooned with hundreds of tiny bulbs.

for the visitor, a majesty to behold
please consider, for the worker,
an interminable tedium to clean.

Tender Haiku

aching that I’ve known
a recipe for failure
tender to the bone

Umbrella Me

protection from the glaring sun, heat, and harmful rays,
shielding from the pelting rain’s chilly soaking to the skin,
waiting patiently in the stand, by the door, forgotten until needed.
left behind in foreign places, a burden to be carried,
ever-ready to break your fall a Mary Poppins’ gentle landing.

Nesting

to bed by the sea with you,
a curtain of palm fronds
shielding us from prying birds’ eyes,
ocean’s rhythmic whisper at our feet.

nestled among the blooming flower-heads,
here we will sleep, our weary bodies and our heavy souls
sinking into clean white linens,
as the rising sun dances its light upon the waves.

you, whisper in my ear, sleeping
beyond all the possible words and phrases
to come into the silence
that is the center of our being.

La Cuidad

stone, mortar, steel, and glass
stalwart and stately, the city beckons
scintillating with light and people.
the glory of mankind.

complex construction, supporting heights
unbound, roof-top gardens and fields of windows
reflecting clouds, sky, and other buildings
looking in upon itself.

no difference between day or night
or self and other
the anonymous everyone.

Revelry

like a pup again
tossing her treat in the air
the old girl is back

Strawberry Moon

rising crimson orb of night, large against the starry sky
full of herself and unafraid to bedazzle.
the sweet red flesh of passion
ripened heavy-weight bends stems
to the soft June ground, where
field mice and voles sink their
pointy teeth into each berry then
quickly move on to the next one.
ruby lips dripping summer’s feast
in the magic of moonlight.

To Take Back the Night Again

the clock strikes twelve and
like all good Cinderellas
it is time to flee the ball.

majestic filly’s high stepping gait
fades to field mice scurry,
gilded carriages, slump to fallow pumpkins.

celebration of collective beauty and strength,
withers to a handmaiden’s tale
as courts rule supremely over her body.

what took so long in coming
and seemed to some so secure
vanishes with the flourish of a judge’s pen.

Where do we go from here?

Lust

I Long for your touch,
Under the sheets, sweet, sweat clings
like STrawberry jam.