The Poetry Marathon

“Dear John”

I write these words

to tell you 

I love you

the scars

that you left

pages burned

nothing left, but ash

casted out

to call my power back

to me

I write these words

as they, set me free

                          ❤ always

                                   Me

“Pen’s Perspective”

I’m one of her favorites

a limited edition

me and my sister

the Poetess, she refills us

with inks of

purple and black

cradled in the space

between

her finger and thumb

as our ink

fill her lines

gripped, put to paper

in a fingered caress

her words bleed

onto the page

our homage

“Redacted”

taking back words

is harder

once spoken

written, they can be

~scratched out

typed, they can be 

~ deleted

in pencil, the canc be

~ erased

yet, once spoken

they cannot be unheard

or lost forever

words never heard

~~~~~ 💔~~~~~

Redacted to Read

words

once spoken

cannot be

unheard

“Closeted Threats”  

Trigger Warning ~ sexual abuse

at the tender age of five

unknowing, in the ways of 

the sexual needs of men

the attention, was different

my own mother, absent

in her own hell

I’m sure

the light burned high above

his head, as he towered over me

blinding me ~

squinting my eyes

I heard ~

you can’t tell them

or else

the words fell

to the closet floor

where I sat

later,  a mindful adult

asked, the secret spilled

in the parking lot of the local bar

where my mother tended

my mother devastated

her patrons gathered round

his car, left by the side of the road

he was never found

that’s how it ends for those

in a small Texas town

“What is Love” A Ninnette

Love

she asks

will I find

you, in others

no, you must share

with everyone

for, that is 

what I

love

“Tea Time”

she sprinkles cinnamon into her tea

cheeks flushed, beet red

from teetering on buckets

to change the lightbulb

out in the carport

sensing the the tremor

of the trees, whispering in the bayou

spying the fray in the elbow of her jacket

made of elk, she sips 

“Soulful Strings”

stings finely tuned

he starts to glide his bow

the sound hollow, yet

full of vibrato

calling forth, the light of day

she awakens

the sweet sound

strumming her along

warming the dawn

smoothly

saturating the air

softly soothing

the stratosphere

a soulful ballad

rich and enigmatic

“When Words Echo” A Viator

© A. Potter ~2023

when words echo

between the lines

we breathe, in or out

bleeding from thy pen

my eyes lifted

when words echo

memories better left behind

keeping one foot in the past

the caress, of the good times

etching the ache of the bad

when words echo

through the bloody chambers of my heart

running empty, towards the end

pleading, I was placated

my heart whispered ~ not again

when words echo

“Where the Earth Ends”

who am I to say

if the the earth is flat

~ or not, for

I’ve only seen the sandy

shores, with its white foamy edges

I’ve not been beyond 

that blue horizon

I’ve found rocky ledges

where the ocean rages against the coast

I’ve not been beyond

those jagged cliffs

when you’ve not been

beyond the edges

do we really know 

if it has an end

“What Does It Mean”

life’s sweet mystery

has me wondering

these shapes we see

in the clouds

billowing by

what does it mean

the synchronic numerology

butterfly in a bush

birds fluttering, amongst the trees

the beauty of the present

life’s precious gift

leaves me pondering

the feather, upon the ground

lyrics, speaking to your soul

life’s lessons

has me judging

if my mind is sound