Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018, Week 38

The Marathon journey continues. Search under the category Day Trip Poetry Marathon 2018 for earlier entries.

On Thursday, September 20 – Brendlinger Library, Montco, once again. We’re at the edge of autumn – these trees on campus are trying to make up their minds how soon to take the plunge and drop some leaves. Looks to me that they are testing out the idea a little at a time…


I went into College Hall


and entered the library. It was early, just after 8 AM, but students are already making the place hum. I set up on the main floor. Sometimes a hum is good background music for thinking…

Montco 9-20-18 #601

I planned some speed-writing poetry today and Little Vines. I continue to add ideas for my fourth quarter 2018 Marathon sessions – the kind of organizing tasks I so love and are not of much interest to anyone else, such as refining my poetry database. I’m also thinking about what kind of writing I want to do in 2019 – a vague and misty place 2019 is for me right now, but also with a variety of routes to choose, I think. For the remainder of 2018, I look forward to new poems and finishing projects so that I can start out the next phase of the writing journey with light suitcases.

I also did some blur photos of my area. Take a look…




All right. I settled down and I got to work. Here are some samples. Let the creative light shine!

Light Montco 9-20-1801


Eavesdropping. I do it a lot.


I sit
in a chair. I fish.
The rush of sibilances
across the room while
I strain to grasp them
squeeze them into hard clear shapes
I can hold on to
but they evade me
slipping through my hearing
again and again. The frustration
of fishing and the fish glimpsed
through the water
not caught and
instead laughing at me
while darting away through
the weeds growing up from the mud
those sibilances promising such a meal
and giving up so little.

I sit across the room
and I cast my line.

I overheard two students talking about living situations. Also, I had fish on my mind from the earlier poem. Now you see where this shadorma came from.

Almost grown
You still live at home
darting through
the windows
of a ceramic castle
set on pink gravel.

The word “gravel” interested me, I think. Here it is again in this haiku.

parked on the gravel
the new car preens and ignores
stones in its tire treads.

Little Vines.

Oh no we’ve sprung a leak, you say
Well, I’m an actress not a ferryboat captain
I can wail but I do not bail

read what’s on this blank piece of paper
just a hunch
she certainly has something to hide

in the hands of the complicit cook
the rogue salt shaker took its revenge
tossing stray chunks of concrete in the quiche

sitting in silence at the kitchen table
whose fears are we evading
whose heart are we cutting in two?

you’re right
it’s not about easy
they are just tired and wanting things to end

Sure, make a run for it
I will admire you from behind
don’t let the flattery go to your head and slow you down

a complicated story
the plot was twisty and multicolored
hundreds of bright red top-shelf conflicts

Hello dear, I’ve been wondering where you were
No no no just tell me and get it over with
Swallow your pride or I’ll puncture it. Take your pick.

audition day
the soapsuds singing
a big clean song

You said it’s raining harder
That news really gave my dear old aunt a charge
Being half-mermaid half-ark as she is

I was confused about my life.
No questions please, said the therapist
Prey belongs in a well-seasoned stew.

a very kind thing to do
but it had
a little bit of a tart taste to it

it was just another ordinary accident of course
just one slip on that polished floor
and suddenly it didn’t matter that you’d been a cigarette smoker all your life

when you remove a wasp nest
they will want compensation for their loss.
stick your arm out and take your stings.

believe me, wherever I am
the sun is in my eyes
my paint is dry and blistered

you went home from work with that high fever
at your funeral it sure was a sympathy marathon
a dirt-nap lullaby with a reggae-salsa beat

severed main thread
disrupted electrical signals
I was so close to understanding why our marriage failed

in the rain it was easier
just sliding along the roof
with the rest of the slithery crowd

Thank you for reading! See you next time.

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