The Poetry Marathon

go beyond fears
ignite the flame of life
go beyond doubts
turn your creative mind
go beyond pain
inhale a relieving spirit
go beyond the failures
examine existing treasures
go beyond the inconvenience
seek emotional fitness
when you find a way beyond ways
of becoming
to uncover the pressures
you become change
the torch
the portals of discovery
it is within
yourself
beyond the line
beyond the goal
beyond earth
beyond future
you are the child beyond all
the true wisdom
to shine
until the end of time

my revised poem( go beyond)
googled photo

Poem 11 for the Hour 11

you never retire
to be my smart comrade
i am a VIP submitting
with the object permanence
you possess
much more on the movies
meant to be a hero
performer and football player
occupying the eleventh kin
you are so adorable
i have a feast plan in 2018
a bucket of bones
for you my merger
and my caretaker

I see her standing in front of the mirror
Striking her hair in fishtail
The moment she puts on a lipstick
She thinks she have just painted
Another story for a brand new day
It adds colors and sassy look
She models her scarlet veil and her crimson doll shoes
She likes the way her cup B sized bras are kept
With tags of memories of battling the battles within her battles
It is like her cry conquers the rhythms of liberty
Garlands of hopes reverberate in back to back trends
Of surviving the daily wars inside and outside
She makes her oncologist feel
She can stand and be back on her mountaineering
Her force is beyond a millionaire’s wish
Just like her, the host of outnumbered dreams
The reward is priceless- LIFE
Another life in joining miracles
When one-roofed litanies of women warriors
Trying to save the clans of goodwill and heralds of compassion
The milestone have just defined the voiceless
From the selfless
Even the yellow and pink ribbons could praise
The wakes of black and white in their deathbeds
That’s how she reflects, that’s how she fights
She displays her flag of courage
Before the billion innocents’ eyes

mind typing whatever comes
in the making knowing everything
you and me in the word without borders
yehey! this coffee makes me awake
i am a number one nocturnal queen
talking to my merciless keyboard
while i hear the morning alarms
of roosters in the neighborhood
i love this poetry marathon
i am going to the finish line 3 hours to go
12 hours with 12 prompts
imagine the life of an artist and poet
different time zones
different places
different cultures
but here we are playing
like there is no tomorrow
how far can i go
how slow can i think
while bed is calling me now
and it’s five:08 in the philippines
there might be mi__ _ing piece
but this stuff i won’t forget

Poem 8 For The Hour Eight

sail me through the Venice
we need to kiss like prince and princess
eternal love that is

bridge of sighs hear us please
we need to give our hearts
forever bliss

we need to ride the gondolas
keep our promises not to depart
legend sings our songs at sunset

campaniles ringing all around
two souls are finally bound
to the River of Unrequitted Love

you and i together
it’s all the love
we need

(c) ceri naz
photo credit :https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bridge_of_Sighs

Poem 7 for Hour Seven

s/c/r/i/b/b/l/e/s of/
hie
ro
gly
phics
totems
of thoughts in labyrinth

find me everywhere

in between
periods
commas & ampersands
c.o.n.n.e.c.t.i.n.g
heart
to hearts

(c) ceri naz visual poem/ maze of poets and poetry

Poem Six for The Hour Six

life is so precious to live for
we tend to f I n d what’s the best cure
asking for r e a L remedies from door, down, under
plunge yourself t O the pool of satisfaction
get energized, m o V e your body, drink more
scribble your thoughts, b E prolific
leave all Y o u r worries and be optimistic
focus O n the productive nature
U n d i s t u r b e d from any failure
indulge to the beauty of living a life
there’s so much happiness in little things
look at the sunshine each day brings
what a wonderful world to live in
soothing music will take you to a pilgrim
live.laugh.love everyday
for the world is ours, be happy
take this door to the hidden magical stairs
the best therapy that one can share

(c) ceri naz

Poem Five for the Hour Five

he invented the pendulum of change
welcomes each difference to create
kaleidoscope of men’s healing grounds
he is a matchstick lighting candles
of small words of the small worlds
he is a street corner of philosophy
son of S.A.P.-Socrates, Aristotle and Plato
S. who didn’t write books but gave
a rise to teacher’s teachings
A. for his long walk to the Golden Mean
a counsel in moderating things
P. with his great physique
who believed in pre-existence
and immortality of the soul
he is a Father of all fathers
not a demigod who spits feign
his mind soars the infinite horizons
his flame goes beyond
truth of all truths
he is the timeless ageless warrior
like Vulcan’s undefeated fire

(c) Ceri Naz
photo credit: http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/Tr-Wa/Vulcan.html

Poem Four For the Hour Four

15th of the calendar, finished dining
At the best French cuisine
Had the best Amanti Vino sip
Eiffel couldn’t explain
Temptations of the whirling trumpets
From Tibetan to Paris waterspout
It showers eerily, knocks me crazy
The cackles from the windows, then towards
The witnessing cold-wither-proof rooftop
Invite his body to wrap me
All around
And the pulling force exaggerates
Bed stories filling all the corners of the room
‘twas a game of murmurs , beats and bites
Then on and on, naked surrealism
Yelling trajectory of giggles
The monsoon blessed the ecstasy
The would be another Harlequin’s whispers
Of sweet nothings
On a rainy day,
an exclaimed anniversary.

(c) Ceri Naz
photo used reverts to the original owner

Poem Three for the Hour Three

my father was a fisherman
he had his fishing tackles
kept at the backyard store room
i loved the fresh catch
freshwater fish, prawns and shells
i would asked him
why he needed to fish
his answer was, ”i love your mom”
i always wondered why he told me that
it was like a deathless joy in his heart
i have learned Ichthyology
and still a mystery for me
where do fishes came from
what would be like if there are no fishes
in the ocean, lakes, and rivers
i was in grade five
when my father died
i told myself i don’t like ”fishtalk”

two decades and seven
i have learned to fish
at the Steveston Waterfront
it reminds me of the one who loved my mom
until i loved to fish and yes fish loved me too
i love cooking, i love serving
and tell my friends bon appetit
it’s unfleeting words of wisdom
why good catch
is like my father’s love
to someone’s best
he fished with all his love

( my fishing memories at Steveston Waterfront, Steveston, British Columbia)