The Poetry Marathon

Speak to me

in a way I can feel

so I can know

what you say is real.

Look at me

in a way I can hear

all of your secrets

all of your fears.

Touch me

in a way I can see

where you’re stuck

and where you’re free.

Walk with me

in a way I can sense

who you are to me

and why you were sent.

Somewhere out there

there’s a place called home

where I’m free to be me

without judgment or scorn.

Somewhere out there

there’s a place I can breathe

where I’m loved and accepted

for who I be.

My inner compass is set to north

I check it daily to stay on course.

I push through the dense brush

and wade through the sludge

going home, going home

to a place called love.

I kneel by the light of the moon

let it wrap me in its radiant glow

kiss me tenderly on the forehead

and whisper, “I love you.”

I look up to the magical sun,

like a child looks to its mother,

as a source of protection,

as a power of love,

as its source for everything.

Cottage life,

Firefly dreams,

A bottle of whiskey,

And logs for heat.

No mask required,

no need to feel strange.

The lethargy lifts,

I’m alive again.

I did all the things I hated most,

and choked out room for love to grow.

Angry and bitter and out of control,

I did all the things I hated most.

I drank, I smoked, I screwed around,

I kicked and screamed, raised holy hell.

I cried and lied and stole and worse.

I did all the things I hated most.

I was knocked down but not out,

it was a round, not the bout.

I regained my vision,

wiped the blood from my mouth.

My heart was still pumping,

My lungs breathing strong,

I got up to my feet,

determined to win.

My opponent came at me,

with their usual tricks,

but this time I ducked,

and dodged all of their kicks.

Into the last round,

my opponent now weak,

I landed my shot,

and knocked him dead off his feet.

Rise and shine,

reach for the sky,

set the intention,

remember the ‘Why’.

Give thanks for the day,

before feet hit the floor,

call love to the heart,

and expect to feel more.

Hit the cold shower,

refresh and awake,

sing while you’re at it,

louder is great.

Hydrate, meditate,

breathwork and prayer,

down-dog, cat-cow,

lion and bear.

Primed for the mission,

full steam ahead,

ready for action,

ready to lead.

Once mission complete,

some quiet reflection,

some time in the garden,

to commune with perfection.

Into the kitchen,

for nourishment,

giving thanks for the food,

feeling blessed for the chance.

Get out of your head and into your heart.

Call in the light to see in the dark.

Remember your essence, remember the truth.

Nothing and no one can take that from you.

Feed your soul with poetry and song

Laugh til it hurts and dance up a storm.

Love, love, and love some more.

Give what you’ve got without concern for tomorrow.

Believe in your brilliance and let yourself shine.

You’re magic, kid, and that’s no lie.

Sweet Sarge,

I felt your pain,

and I wish I’d loved you better then.

My dark and twisted friend,

I miss your wicked sense of humour.

I miss the little boy who played peek-a-boo from behind the steel walls and barbed-wire fences.

I wish I’d loved you better then.

I trust you forgive me.

I’ve learned a lot since then.

Mostly, I’ve learned to love myself.

And forgive myself.

And heal the pain I felt.

Thank you.

Speak to me with your eyes,

the love you have inside.

Touch me without words.

Hold me without arms.

So I can feel the you that is beyond form.

Share with me your essence.

Radiate your light.

Burn bright.