November Challenge: Ending or Beginning?

[Angeline]

Woo who turned out the lights and left the building? Guilty Pleasure gave us a terrific challenge, but now we need a new one! Sooooo..........

Write a poem about an ending or a beginning. You can even put both in the same poem if that works for you. Your poem can be any length or form: all efforts and/or experiments are welcome. Submit as many poems as you like. You know we all love to read them.

The deadline is November 30, whenever that day is over for you.

Be fruitful and poetic!

 

[Piscator]

After Halloween
the clock stopped for an hour
daylight savings’ end

 

[Moochienanu]

Everyday

Blinking eyes
Wake as you drift
Thoughts of my skin against yours
Few words exchanged
Acknowledging and reinforcing
Up and dressed
Coffee and work
Thoughts of my skin against yours
Open and close
Pick and set up
You wake to my thoughts
And send words across the distance
Thoughts of my skin against yours
Off work and drive further away
Play at being myself
Horizontal hours close
With a shower
Thoughts of my skin against yours
Laying in an empty bed
Words exchanged
Tuck me in if you can
Fill me completely with
Thoughts of my skin against yours
Sweet moments
Before drifting eyes close
On another day with you
And knowing my dreams will be filled with
Thoughts of my skin against yours

I hope you don’t mind a poem from my last 30 in 30... I really like it and wanted to share it again. This is a great place for it.

 

[Angeline]

Thanks P'tor and Moochie for getting this challenge rolling! (Moochie poems from other threads here like the 30/30, 007, or 5 Senses, etc., are fine here as well .)

I hope to post something soon. I fell today and am bruised and hurting so it might be a day or two until I feel better, but please carry on!

Oh yeah just got back from hospital and no I didn't break anything, just mighty sore and fuzzy from the meds.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

New Year

I thought I’d be the one,
pampered into oblivion.
You fought it valiantly
when it arrived, avoiding
the half open door but
the battle beat you down,
depleted your already age-
weakened weapons of humour,
positivity and grace,
Oh how you hated the tricks
old age played, the slippery
trips, face first onto punishing
pavement.
Still you read
and read
and read,
There was jazz too, old favourites
that made us smile.
What I couldn’t do for you
our children did,
patiently, lovingly easing you on.
Just before midnight, during your
own private count-down,
you left us.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Thanks P'tor and Moochie for getting this challenge rolling! (Moochie poems from other threads here like the 30/30, 007, or 5 Senses, etc., are fine here as well .)

I hope to post something soon. I fell today and am bruised and hurting so it might be a day or two until I feel better, but please carry on!

Oh yeah just got back from hospital and no I didn't break anything, just mighty sore and fuzzy from the meds.

Oh hell, glad nothings broken, do be careful! We don't bounce so well these days! Gentle hugs

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I dreamed of you last night,
of times and us
those years back then.
Friends, just friends.
You didn't mess with married women,
you said, although the spark
between us was strong.

When I heard you'd gone,
a little piece of my heart
always yours, broke.

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Just a paragraph in the local paper
of somebody's wedding,
but I knew his brother.
Back in the days of virginity
and Mods and Rockers.
I was a Rocker really
but he looked so cute
in his parka on the scooter
his Daddy bought him,
the one he died on.
I still see his face and remember
how I flirted just to ride behind him.
I wasn't in his social standing really
but I looked the part
with flowing blonde hair.
Good enough to be his girl
till he went away to uni
and left me behind.
He sold his scooter,
rode it to the new owner,
I wasn't his girl then,
so they told me afterwards.
Wasn't a mark on his body
where he died in the road.

 

[Angeline]

Undone

Is this a poem?
It might be costumed it might
be masked, so I entreat my own words,
call out: "Poem! Ollie ollie oxen free!"
Lose that strange outfit. It doesn't suit
you and where are you hiding anyway
in all that mess?

Sometimes there's only more mask, more mess.

Is this a poem
when it feels like herding cats?
The right words might be under
the bed or halfway up a tree.
In my struggle, words become
less important than me.
I may as well be herding my unruly
self and what might have been
a poem slithers away,
holding its secrets for now

Misterioso.

 

[butters]

Thanks P'tor and Moochie for getting this challenge rolling! (Moochie poems from other threads here like the 30/30, 007, or 5 Senses, etc., are fine here as well .)

I hope to post something soon. I fell today and am bruised and hurting so it might be a day or two until I feel better, but please carry on!

Oh yeah just got back from hospital and no I didn't break anything, just mighty sore and fuzzy from the meds.

 

[Angeline]

Oh hell, glad nothings broken, do be careful! We don't bounce so well these days! Gentle hugs

Thank you both. I'm in much less pain though I'm getting around at a snail's pace at the moment. And by hook or by crook I am moving in about ten days. Thank heavens for my kids and their army of millennial friends who are coming to help (and see the mountains in their last gasp of autumnal beauty)

 

[Piscator]

Proletarian blues

day2day
week2week
month2month
year2year
hand2mouth
mouth2mouth
and there ain’t
no resuscitation
nothing changes
for the better here
in the lower 99%
and even 69 is hard
without that blue pill
yet we keep on
keeping on
day2day
week2week
month2month
year2year
until it ends​

 

[UnderYourSpell]

Proletarian blues

day2day
week2week
month2month
year2year
hand2mouth
mouth2mouth
and there ain’t
no resuscitation
nothing changes
for the better here
in the lower 99%
and even 69 is hard
without that blue pill
yet we keep on
keeping on
day2day
week2week
month2month
year2year
until it ends​

Just Wow .......

 

[UnderYourSpell]

1 Year

We're almost there and I hold my breath,
almost afraid to speak it, in case ... shudder...
I should put the kibosh on it, but still, well,
well, you know me, never one for keeping
my mouth shut, and I say to you anyway
"You know what next month is don't you?"
"Yes" you answer "Our Anniversary."

 

[Piscator]

Just Wow .......

Thanks Annie, although I fear I may be getting hung up on the ending thing.

 

[Piscator]

First snowfall and like an old bear, I am longing for hibernation.

 

[GuiltyPleasure]

An unlikely couple

An unlikely pairing, with her roots
deep in medieval France and his
just south of Hadrian’s wall.

Blue stocking meets
black sheep, posh meets prole.

Divergent bloodlines, historically
remote,
chance and happenstance made
the nexus,
blended differences,
created a couple who, in turn
created, with love.

 

[Angeline]

Nuthin But The Blues

I'm in an ocean of jazz, the
onliest place where I can float
on blues that dip and crash,
slide in so dizzy but always slither
out again, all these bumptious changes
and me like an eternal child
rocked in the slur
and sweet susuration
of tenorly waves,
some kind of cymbals
as if this were just a dream.

 

[Tzara]

Detonation

Everything started with you, as if you touched off my gelignite.

 

[Piscator]

The Diner at the End of the Road

At the Village Diner Restaurant,
Friday’s Fish and Chips Special
isn’t really all that special but the
waitress is friendly and portions ample.

The tables are full, mostly seniors but
there’s a young farmer with his date
whose eyes light up at the BBQ ribs.

After dinner, coffee is important
but pie is essential and as requested,
I pay my bill and tip in cash before
walking back home wondering at
all those cars passing by on their way
to the franchises down the road.

 

[Remec]

Here we go again

It was a familiar refrain,
common enough to be more
of a reflex reaction not always
voiced:

"Well, that's over and done,
on to the next, eh?"

Didn't matter whether it was
sunset or a passing season,
the end of a match or game,
the final silence as bride and groom
slipped off be by themselves,
or as the casket was lowered
into the ground;

 

[Angeline]

Like a Gerbil on a Wheel!

Moving is both ending and beginning: I'm racing in a circle.

 

[Piscator]

Half-lives - Half-lies

my bedside table's infested with half read books
my to do list full of incompletes and someday soons
my composition files full of starts with few endings
my fly tying table littered with feathers and thread
my desk drawer hides memories of past affairs
my memory fading as years go by
my ego inflated with remnants of white male privilege
my id diminished by the toils of aging
my life descending into shadows
the light that casts them slowly fading


sigh another list poem