Hi Caitlin and all!
Looking forward to the Marathon this year and writing with this wonderful community.
I’m getting a pop-up at top of my screen: “WordPress 6.3.1 is available! Please notify the site administrator.”
Do I need to do anything? I tend to operate on the if-it’s-not-broke-don’t-fix-it approach.
Please let me know if I need to take action!
Warm wishes to all, Nandiya
nandiya
Nandiya Nyx has ridden the elevator with Harry Belafonte and slept in the bed of a famous 1970s rock and roll icon (he wasn’t home at the time). She is a writer, photographer, and American Sign Language Interpreter. This is her third Marathon.
Oops! That page can’t be found.
Hey Marathoners, When I click on “Prompts” tab I get msg “Oops! That page can’t be found.” I understand no prompts are posted yet — still 1hr 6 min to go! Just want to make sure I’m looking in correct place for them to post. Reply would be appreciated!
Have fun everyone : ) Nandiya
How to move to beginning of Posts, 2021 Marathon
Hi all, Is there a way to jump to the beginning of the (many pages from) 2021 Marathon so I can read the posted poems? There are thousands of pages of posts and comments and would like to start at the start. Advice appreciation. Bravo/a all!
Hour 24_at home
Why do you ask this?
Prompting me to end
on a sad note.
Since the accident,
since leaving Viet Nam,
the difficult sojourn with my sister,
the surgeon-inflicted injury –
there is no place
no at home
to be in.
This body
trusty capable helper
a battlefield of repeated assault.
Heart and mind
bruised
lost.
So much to re-learn;
how and who to be
in a re-imagining world.
But there is this:
the gentle rise and fall
of breath
nourishing, sustaining
befriending
In stillness or flurry,
constant
Connecting me
with all of creation
This,
this is where I am most
at home.
Hour 23_Say Cheese
Say it.
I dare you
not to smile!
Hour 22_poem to wake up
Aaarrrrrgggh!
jumpshoutstretch!
But, you know
with little more than 2 hours to go
why get so excited?
Hour 21_ not an ode
I’ve been at this way too long
am absolutely crowed
Oh, why did they pick this hour
to celebrate the ode?
Earlier, by many hours, my words
my form, they flowed
But now the brain is foggy
its more than slowed – it’s snowed.
I’ll try another day
of this I won’t betray
I’ll write with great cachet
The things I will portray!
Light returns day to the sky
At this time I would be waking
But sleep has not yet bunked here
Nonsense is for the taking!
Oh, ode my deep regret
I will ne’er forget
Later – but not yet
This moment in your debt!
Hour 20_prompt
with
darkness
my cloak
i walk
smooth
satin
sky
flecked
with
stars
swiss dot
fabric
enrobing
night
in
this
expanse
all
is unveiled
and
the smallest
frog’s
throaty song
resounds.
Hour 19_3:05am, Hour 19, Poetry Marathon
Grabbing snippets
of wakefulness
then sliding back
to wide-eyed oblivion.
My spiritual teacher says
when the mind lets go,
or in this case,
can no longer hold –
there is an opening;
much is revealed.
May it be so!
Hour 18_I am trying
I am trying to tell you
but knife-edged dry ribbons
spill from my mouth.
You ask what happened.
I tell you about the humiliation,
the intimidation.
The lies told to embarrass
to destroy trust; to break apart the bonds we shared
to which he was not a part.
I remember the threats of physical violence,
isolating me from others;
feeling vulnerable and unsafe at work and where I lived.
Almost wanting the blows to fall
to shatter the anticipation of not knowing
when they would come
But he was clever
drawing the torment out to its apex
always just short of culmination
amplifying a festering heat of fear and hate.
You ask
and I am trying to tell you.
But you interrupt
and say, I thought something really awful happened.
I thought you were raped.
What, this doesn’t measure up?
Am I to choke up these ribbons of pain
until they unfurl and twist at your feet,
a pretty bow?
Until they make of this something you can understand,
something
really awful?
These knife-edged memories
are no longer to my taste.
I’m going.
My throat is sore;
time for waiting is
over.