Anthology Submissions are Closed
The title says it all. Submissions to the 2016 Poetry Marathon Anthology are closed. I will try to reply to everyone who submitted within the next week,
Anthology Submissions are Now Open
Submissions for the 2016 Poetry Marathon Anthology opened this morning, the 3rd of September and will stay open till the 12th of September. No submissions will be accepted after that point.
All submissions must include two poems, no more, no less. All submissions must be made via our email address (poets@thepoetrymarathon.com). The subject line of all emails must be Poetry Submission. Poems must be included in the body of the email.
All poems submitted must be written during the 2016 Poetry marathon. All poems should be completely edited and contain no major grammatical errors. You must indicate which hour each poem was written in. Only poets who completed the whole or half marathon will be eligible to submit. If you signed up for the whole marathon and only completed the half, submit as a half marathoner.
There is no guarantee that by submitting to the anthology your poem will be selected.
Digital copies will be made available for free to any contributor. Print copies will be available for a reasonable price and any money that is made from them will go back into the marathon.
Want to know what the 2014 Poetry Marathon Anthology was like? Pick up your copy here.
hour twelve
It’s warmth wraps around me
a woodsy smell envelopes me
it is soft & worn
as I put my arms in its sleeves
I remember, it working
in the woodshop –
Daddy’s workshirt…
soft memories hug me…
hour eleven
the aroma wafts towards my nose,
I think of the hands
that lovingly prepared
those hand-cut
potatoes, thick slices
piled high in the cast iron
cooked to crispy perfection
as my teeth sink in,
ahhh, yummy
grandma’s fried potatoes!
hour ten
boom, clatter, crash
as I sit watching the train slowly pass…
screech, rumble growl
the cars pick up speed…
clackity-clack goes the track
and I watch it go by…
hour nine
the rain beats down on the windshield
wipers bashing at the chaos
trucks splattering more water
than those tiny blades can swipe
cursing the rain, the car zooms along
I’m wishing I had time
to stop and dance in the rain…
Apologies friends…
Well, I thought I’d have all my poems posted by now, however, life intruded…I will try to finish posting them this weekend…
Hour 24 – Nostalgia
A proud old man lives below me
He doesn’t go out too much
Too fragile to even bow
Limbs cracking at seams
Into the dead of the night
I could hear his words
building an enterprise of his senses
To go out and act on his behalf