in the dream antigone hungers for justice like a child
needs breakfast after the fever has broken fever so high
like a fever has stepped on a crack and snapped its own back
antigone all white robes as they wore back then a rope round
her waist though she is daughter of a king always daughter
of the dead king a life defined by ghosts another life defined
the hunger a wolf clicking its wolf-teeth the father dead
it is the only taste at the tip of the very very edge
if you won’t serve it to her serve it here fill her with it
fill her hungry me poor antigone axed for lack of it
for saying there is none
so a man would make a play about there is none
so you will know there is none
so the hero of the play can learn something new, true
and you learn maybe but not antigone (who was right) is
only need is never satisfied we are never
i drag bodies around this earth i haul buckets of sand
toss sand on them, on him, on my true brother
where tossing sand is best next option but i starve.
Feeling flustered not sure where to go. Just about into the third leg of this flow. Almost in tears trying to hold it together. I hope this is where my poetry Fester’s.
Edith, itll be ok.
Have you registered your account? Logging in can take a back seat, jus keep writing with each prompt. You can log in after and THEN post them with an updated timestamp.
Calming from confusing I’m in the flow. I’m writing my thoughts I’m willing my Mojo.
I thought this would be hard to write on demand. But now my fingers are writing as I know they can.
I prayed to God for guidance and peace, to take me through these words I feast.
When I write I feel so free, it takes wisdom and patience to write like you and me.
So now it’s the third poem of this race, to finish on time or in your own pace.