I Actually Won Something

Great news! I won second place for the poem I submitted to the Annual Bloggers Bash!

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…I’m a bit miffed that “Silent but Tardy” wasn’t a contender, but totally stoked that I actually won something! I’ve included the winning entry below, which I submitted from my motherhood site.

 

Five More Minutes

Five more minutes to sleep alone,
To dress in peace,
To check a phone.

Five more minutes to eat my food,
To eat it warm,
To eat it chewed.

Five more minutes to sit right here,
To read a book,
To disappear.

Five more minutes is not that long,
To feel the guilt,
To feel the wrong;

When

Five more minutes is what I seek

Five more minutes is all I need

Five more minutes, or maybe three,

Is all I long for, to just be me.

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Photo Credit:
Jordan Whitt

 

©2019 Chelsea Owens

Suddenly Spring

Where once the tingling, Jack Frost taste
Bit bent and ser’ious mien,

A sky-rinsed stretch of waking Earth
Draws out unfurling green.

And called upon by nature’s pow’r,
Or, by a lace-tipped wing,

Th’ smiling, newborn flora shouts
Happ’ly: Suddenly spring!

 

Gramma Dear

Flowered pots and colored notes
fly gently on the walls;

Whose smiling, standing stick-men

Wave out from rainbowed pen?

 

Wrinkled cheeks and vacant eyes
of startling, once-clear blue;

What’s inside now, Oh Gramma dear?

What’s cloudy and what’s clear?

 

Gnarled hands and anxious grip
that once held mine with love;

Whose fingers do you think these are?

Whose hand felt from afar?

 

Silent words and down-turned mouth
mar lips that laughed and spoke;

What joke or story would you say?

What do you think today?

 

Who are these strangers milling round;
unfamiliar people?

Where is the you

You know?

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Remembered for Carrot Ranch‘s weekly prompt: growing older

May 9, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about growing older. It can be humorous, dark or poignant. It can be true or total fiction. It can be fine wine or an old fossil. Go where the prompt leads!

Respond by May 14, 2019. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

 

Photo Credit:
Cristian Newman

Olympic Achievement

Panting, moving; legs dance; running? Slow he moves, yet forward goes.

Yelling, waving; crowds smile; cheering! Quick their hands and banners flow.

Road goes under, step by stepping; ev’ning sunshine asphalt raised.

Signs flash by, their message flapping; glinting sun and wind-blown praise.

Turn now, hero, enter warmly; enter ‘neath the crowds and flares.

Swift and surely, climb the mountain; climb your metal, switchback stairs.

Raise your head now, torch-lit runner

Lift your eyes from up and under;

Hear now, see now: raised-face, raised sight

Bring your arm: the dimmer torch light–

Seek the peak and flame -IGNITE!

Run and fired up for Carrot Ranch‘s prompt.

April 4, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about fire. It can be a flame that burns or a light that inspires. Follow the flames and go where the prompt leads!

Respond by April 9, 2019. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form.  Rules & Guidelines.

Prometheus

Were I a god
I’d start
here
here, with nothing
a great compression of
nothing
till the built-up force of spaces between the nothing nothing nothing
exploding
expanding
extrapolating
cause slivered bits of, simply, everything.

Were I a god
I’d start
there
there, with slivers
a sparkling shower of
slivers
till, gathered, they form a winking blinking ball of thunk thought think
longing
learning
living
condensations of, really, sentience.

Were I a god
I’d start
everywhere
everywhere, with sentience
a malleable mess of
sentience
till the clumps of godmade intelligences breathe stretch move
dreaming
daring
dancing
flaming forms of, actually, life.

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In answer to Frank Prem’s analysis (in the end the flame)

Seasonal Perspectives

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I stand
a moment
in frigid air
and hear a cheery bird chirp near
and think
Why does he play his song?
Does he not see the frosty fronds, the wintry trees, the sleeping ground?

I perch
a moment
midst warming breeze
and see a saddened person sigh
and think
Why would she moan and cry?
Does she not feel the stretching stalks, the budding leaves, the waking sounds?

And both
the bird and human
shrug
and go back home
to wonder why
the other must be bound.

 

Photo by Peter Lewis on Unsplash

Right Quite Not Something’s

.guru techno a

,you find ,else Or

.computer laptop your upon

files data your save to look Please

.intruders face to look please

;that only than more far Recall

.tears and scolds my recall

,door your at beckon strangers and

,clear not road’s the whene’er

:well me hear please ,child lov’ly My

.enlarge view your help to

show and guide and aid to seek I

;charge listen’ing my ,you to

knell warning a cry to seek I

,so And .pounce to ready

-lurks failure a where or when

know never may you ,For

;one dearest my life your Backup◀◀

 

.Ranch Carrot for versed and ,rhymed ,mirrored ,Dreamed

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