Posted by zongrik
Like Those Times
It’s like those times
You dig your fingers into the wall
And pull yourself to the corner
Just to let your essence
Seep into the ceiling crack
Propitiously cut there
By the most recent rainstorm.
It’s like the time you crashed
Into the bathroom, only to use
Your robe as a rope, to climb
Down through the heating vent
Just to find yourself surrounded
By the energy generating
Bowel of your house.
It’s like that time you
Threw everything out of the closet
So you could crawl in
Under the empty hangers
And sit there, in fetal position
Like a stow-a-way to an alien planet
Where they wave magic titanium rods
And cure your aging and your breath.
Today’s prompt, by @bmiller007, was to write a poem about 1999: So what were you doing in 1999? Which experiences do you recall vividly? Well, that’s easy, I got to MY DOCUMENTS/POETRY/1999 and pick something.
I was just getting separated from my x-husband. I had two teenage boys, two dogs, two cats and a horse. I was also going to University of Washington majoring in aerospace engineering. For summer vacation, I had my shoulder replaced in 1998 and my knee replaced in 1999. I did this the day after the last final, so I could have the whole summer to heal. Fall of 1998, I was stupid enough to take Aeronautical Engineering, Astronautical Engineering, Advanced Calculus and Modern Physics all at one time. I could not handle that load with all the other things going on in my life.
As for the picture, aside from classroom, homework and regular things students do, rocket science requires you do some cool lab work. So literally, that picture, is what I was doing in 1999. I loved those zebra sneakers!!
I did not edit this. Obviously, I don’t write like this any more.
Poetics – 1999
Posted by zongrik
disembodied spheres, contiguous to contradictory
aspects of reality ― inviolable trans-empirical congeners.
abstractly marginal concepts run swiftly in
dysfunctional Rodentia brains silently breaking moonlight.
self-causation. incantation. ordination. reassertion
incandescent power. scintillating siren speaks apostolically.
barrel-jammed full of exo-bizzare causal continuity.
extrasensory existentialist momentary causality
innervates gaudy uniqueness that knows no bounds.
encapsulation. detonation. postulation. misdirection.
Today’s prompt, by
Poetics – Awareness of the Experience
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