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Writing a 5 minute poem about a stone every day - Days 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6
Day 1:
Indistinguishable from the next
Yet placed in a pocket
Decisions made to be kept
Yet I feel I give nothing
For I am a stone after all
It's my life's work
To ponder my worth
So tiring I mostly sit and rest
Sometimes in the stomach of a fox
Other times I wake flying over the shoreline
People are cocker hoop
I am a stone
Something works in these equations
Though I wear away
The granules stay with people
When diminished I'll know why
..................
Day 2:
A drop in the ocean
An end of thoughts
Just tumbled, reshaped
A do-over of sorts
Take away the edges
Who am I then?
The same at the centre
No
Matter
How
Many
Times
I
Start
Again
*********
Day 3
Atonement cemented in muscles and bone
Dragged vision towards guilt that isn't my own
Study long and hard on what can be known
Unfortunate consequence of being alone
Is a focus on all the beauty that's flown
Just makes you heavy, burden seem overblown
Effort to move creates grumble and groan
Reality hits that life births clone after clone
Oblivious or aware, neither state can condone
Nothingness promised as thoughts I postpone
Never know if the end is reached when you're grown
Cursed with slowly forgetting as you turn into stone
******
Day 4
It's a drop in the ocean
No splash.
The world feels no ripple
Gone mistypes as home
Because stories arrive
In the middle of poems
And stones might just be stones
All things have a face and a centre
Information within a core
Unreadable
Not all faces give the game away
Not when they are set like stone
A stone becomes more comforting
Than an unfathomable human
Who gives nothing away
*******
Day 5
I'm a marker
Name after name chiselled
And beyond me the dust scatters
My degradation slower, more acceptable
I don't pick where I stand
But my essence travels
Each fragment takes in a sensory overload
As I see it and feel it, feel whole
The wind wears me away
But coaxes me to dance
Allows me to look into all corners
Be the air, be the ground
Be movement and statis
I can't tell a soul
Put place your hand on a standing stone
Feel the energy of what it is to be well lived
Let grains fall through your fingers
Sense the memories
All elements and energy coexist and interact
On different plains on different speeds
All we can do is get a sense of one another
I'm a marker, but it's all beautiful
*******
Day 6
A stones throw away from here
so easy, yet I linger
away from chaos or excitement
these measurements of arms length
or as the crow flies
leaving me perplexed at my staticity
measure me by proximity to something else
was I there? did I avoid it?
there's something about time and distance
it saves you over and over again
safely ensconced
yet having to start again
I should hold that stone in my palm
not let it be unthrown but always where I am
there's an answer within the empty hand
within the short steps to the place the stone landed
but I'll close my eyes, go back to sleep
as storms rage and wars are fought
I sleep on, don't step up to the mark
write in hidden poems, not saying a thing
I've misunderstood the lesson
or sit it on repeat
maybe that's the same thing
if you say a thing too many times it stops making sense
a stones throw away from here sits a version of me
who realised the art of becoming
what if the time and distance is short enough still?
all I need to do is wake up...
*******
Day 7
Copyright ©
Di11y Da11y
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