Walking Into The Sun

The hoarding is over now
we run naked gleeful
into the sun.

My grandson cries, “Nobody doesn’t love
me,” and I feel the outcast energy

rising ancestral tide of shame-tinged blame
and it’s a game we play with passionate

abandon: can you tune in, emote so 
deep a doggy comes to sniff and lick in 

sweet compassion?  Sendings so true, alive
imaginations limitless.  We find

when duress fills our sails, we flee across
the teeming ocean, no time to ponder

why there’s no rhyme today perhaps divine
intervention or an armor-shined knight

will play at slaying dragons—we can’t wait
throw down our Vorpal swords, befriend peril

I look up every weighted word until
in our wild power we must invent new

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Sails, Ponder, Duress, Divine the Stream of Saturday Consciousness prompt to use a word I have to look up (I look up nearly every word before allowing it into a poem, feeling into the weight of etymology) and the OctPoWriMo Day 17 prompt my wild rhythm.

Translating Space

My grandson greets me gregarious
GRO CHAKA MEES HI-YO-TA
I answer in kind as we FaceTime
our fresh living language just wrote, ah.

His passion loosed, he starts a haka
fierce dances and chest pounding
As we FaceTime, I answer in kind
his mother can’t tape this astounding

abandoning rules and creating
BA JUNG-A-LO MA-ZUCKUS
I answer in kind as we FaceTime
the vitriol atrocious ruckus

and the pique we release in our play
stamping feet, rhythmic shouting
as we FaceTime, I answer in kind
then, laughing, throw kisses, undoubting.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Pique, Ruckus, Atrocious, Vitriol and the OctPoWriMo Day 12 prompt, having fun in the process (Playful, Childlike, Silly) in the new-to-me Zanila Rhyme.