The Poetry Marathon

Moon lit walks and late night talks,

By the lake side, or where we reside,

Fond of the glory of our youth and summer nights spent aloof,

We often dreamt of another place and space.

You made a canopy for me, in your heart and arms, a refuge

Where you comfort me, spare stories and share laughs for memories sake,

The infinite ways you say

I love you

I’ll always remember, no matter where you are, or when I am afar,

My heart belongs to you. 

Roaming

Round and round

Confounded by

The fruition of good things

That comes to those who wait patiently,

But he waited and waited more,

As he explored

And slept on floors

Never to find

The hidden warmth inside

Of a family or a home

So he now resides,

In the windows of your eyes

From the strangers that pass by.

You astound me

To be speechless,

While bearing witness of brilliance,

An understatement of your truth.

How did God create you,

Molded and shaped you, so perfectly

Could it be, meant for me?

Fingers laced, my heart raced

When you pulled me in to kiss

When did I become like this,

Afraid to lose,

Addicted to bliss,

Aways fighting, seeking to win?

I never wanted to surrender again,

But you did,

When my heart, body and mind,

Was yours to find,

For keeps and to hold,

Not control,

But don’t ever let go.

As it unfolds,

We may never know,

Or understand how things come to be,

As long as you stand by my side,

I realize, in time

We will learn that our love

Was made to last for eternity.

I journeyed into the wood

Searching for myself,

As high up as the trees,

And as low as the rivers flowing freely.

And everywhere I turned

I found no man,

But in the great spirit of nature,

I found my soul reflected instead.

Did I come to this,

A seeker of thrills?

An heiress of my father’s pastimes

Faced with an uncertain future, 

A seeker of thrills?

Adventurous and naïvely dancing

Braving with fate.

Always was mature for my age

Adventurous and naïvely dancing

Begotten of my mortality

Always was mature for my age

Hand raised to the wind

Begotten of my mortality

I sought for my redemption

Hand raised to the wind

Although I did not serve as he did

I sought for my redemption

Elevated from the novelty 

Although I did not serve as he did

A silhouetted shadow emitted from my lips 

Elevated from the novelty

Immulating figures of reverence

A silhouetted shadow emitted from my lips 

Candidly I indulged on daily doses

Immulating figures of reverence

Of nostalgic reminisce

Candidly I indulged on daily doses

My youthful bones evade death everytime

One day bent postures and pursed expressions

Will tell the story of my heroism in due time

I hope that it will be

The best day of your life.

That I prepare the best I can,

Though I don’t always get it right.

That I will strive to do all I need to do,

To shape a better world for you,

One with peace, joy, balance, and safety from harm,

Where you can always be wrapped in my warm, loving arms.

I worry for your life every single day,

I think about you in my choices, from what I eat, where I sleep, to how I abstain,

To whom I pray.

May God bless everything I do because of you,

Even though you are yet conceived, one day you will be an extension of me.

My beautiful unborn dream child,

Someday I will see your smile,

And I will witness the glory of your growth,

And I will always be proud.

Candlelit dinners create conversations

And sounds of silent spaces

Inbetween Words 

Or exchanging of looks

Give samples of you

Revealing interests

Causing revel in imagination

We intoxicate to sedate

Our minds, and not to deny

Our bodies

We rather be sublime

And in the moment

So we relish in food 

And good news

While our similarities take over

Creating familiarities

Basic formalities lead to natural selection,

Animal instincts lead to weekends in review. 

Who built those eyes

That tell me lies

From the superficial POV

Of your digital lens

Which clicks likes

Like batting lashes

Blush faced emojis

Replace blood flushed faces

You binge on

Biased realities

truths washed away by filters

Characters in one hundred and forty

Escaping the empathy that your missing

For your own sorrows,

Loss, hopes of tomorrows

With a voice

Hiding behind the radiated screen,

Hallowed out

Because you are dying to be heard,

By the artificial persona,

That social media gave you.

She woke from a great slumber,

In a parallel realm of space,

That she didn’t know what to call.

Where she was no one,

But sought after by all,

Her people had been shackled

They were called a lesser race,

For as long as they remembered,

But she didn’t know this place,

And it felt like a sin,

Because as unhappy as they seemed,

They called themselves free.

She woke from a great slumber,

In a parallel realm of space,

Only to find herself somewhere foreign,

That she didn’t know what to call.

In a dimensional place

That was in a strange state,

Where she was no one,

But sought after by all.

Her people had been shackled

And they walked with their heads down,

They were called a lesser race,

Although their Kings and Queens had crowns.

For as long as they remembered,

This is how it had been,

But she didn’t know this place,

And it felt like a sin,

Because as unhappy as they seemed,

They surrounded themselves with vanities.

They called themselves free,

But lived Godlessly.