The Poetry Marathon

Sleep

Lords of slumber, you fascinate me
You mesmerize me
How does one create worlds beyond understanding?
You mystify me
Lords of slumber, you bewilder minds notwithstanding
You let me dream
And escape to worlds that gleam

In Doubt

I lack conviction, I am in doubt
I let the seeds of misconceptions sprout
Is no one to help me realize?
Is no one to help me rocognize?
My indecision and confusion rise; I’m perplexed
About what? You may ask next
I have been dubious for long now
Thinking of Creation, and wondering how

A Non-Traditional love Poem

I’m a little non-traditional, I’ll let you know
My annoyance will only grow
My hatred piqued
At each heart beat skipped
I despise being in love
I can not stand the rhymes above
Love is a bother, I’m completely occupied
I wonder how you can stand mystified
As it crushes your heart
It is that bewildering art
So I will not accept defeat
Love shall retreat
I will deny the stirrings in my emotions
I will refuse the-racing-heartbeat notion
Even when in in love, i will not let it grow
Because I’m a little non-traditional, I’ll let you know

Thank you, Paulo Coelho

In a world of corrupted humanity and desertion
Where love was merely a claimed assertion
Mr. Coelho you taught me,
‘Consider the likelihood of your glee
And darling you’re free’
Your words remain an inspiration
Sometimes scaring, sometimes an aspiration
Each story led me through life
And each lesson has the power to revive
The lost survivors
Mr. Coelho, you might just have made me wiser

Guardian Angel

You are a lie, of course you are
You are too beautiful, too far
To be real
Incredibly surreal
I have been warned all my life
To not believe, but then how must I survive?
You are addictive
And imagination hardly restrictive
Fantasy let me love him
Let me run away with whim
O Guardian Angel, I’m falling for you
I am not faulty, it’s the spell fate brew
And your goodness
Kindness
I am aware, though, I am entirely to blame
But misery played this game
Tricked me into believing,
Mischieving,
I am aware though, I won anyway
You can not be a lie, not today
God makes no lies
And I am incapable of creating so perfect a guise

Tomorrow

‘She turned to say it once again: Tomorrow’
It was the only promise they had but let me be thorough:
It was a promise in a world where tomorrow tomorrow was a lie
For a love struggling to die
In a world of crumpled desires and stolen memories
Where dust had gathered on ancients for centuries
And loved ones dragged along in deepest compassion
Tied to chains, sinking in the dirt of devotion
They made the mistake of wanting
The desire horrifyingly daunting
At dusk, each dusk, boundaries would slip away
And lovers would lay
On the ground of dying beetles and fallen leaves
The beetle, the leaves both outlived them; and witnessed the rivers grieve

The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy 

The Sky is Uncertain of Rain

The sky is uncertain of rain as it pours
On sand, on the canopy, on shores
I cannot speak for all the skies
But I trust mine never lies
He is different than all of his kin
Prudence with inexperience is his sin
He gathers all strength and compassion
I see he needs them in remission
I see his face change countenance
As rain flees, he denies admittance
But there is a dislike within
He warns nature here in
But they understand not how
They are not to love rain now
When all bliss is brought
When refuge is sought
They know not why rain in all glee
Can dismiss the sky’s prudent decree
And through all our tries in his ways
He defies rain, and away he sways
Too perplexed, an evening of rain
I asked my sky why it gives him pain
To witness the heaven pour down
And find frosty wind in his surround
Hesitant, he replies to me
What we all can’t see
Is as much as love rain brings
There is a certain charm of strings
When all go stray and sin relives
All this power that rain gives
He says he denounces this bliss
For it is his humble wish
All order be restored in his reign
And we may lose not our gain
Gone lost and baffled in rebellion
That rain might bring on its stallion
I assure him of our virtue
Nature understands it’s due
We are not to be lost to a little freedom
Rain might only be an escape from boredom
We remained in battle gentle for some time
One blames rain, one sings it’s rhyme
But however at length I knew not
What I eventually thought
Is rain truly a sinful betrayal
Or the truth of love’s avowal?
I let go of this hefty fight
And returned myself to the sight
Of the deluge of rain that renders
As Nature playfully surrenders
And as the sky though unfelt in his views
Remains compassionate enough to the dew

Ipod

Dear Ipod, I am selfish, inexplicably selfish
For all my love for you, is actually blemished
My desires for you spring from despondency
You prevent my lone soliloquy
You bring me the companionship
That I failed to find in kinship
You aid my escape
Into worlds I reshape
You bring reason to chaos
My Amos!
But I repeat, my love is tarnished
For had I not been banished
By all I loved
You would not have been so loved

Leave Her Alone

Leave her alone, O straying grief
Muddle her thoughts not like a thief
Procure not sadness inept her relief
Pray, let stray not her belief

Leave her alone O hurried despondence
And join her not agony, in correspondence
Let her spirits not give defeat admittance
Devoid us not her presence

Leave her alone O mimed feared
As her courage is torn and sheared
And will is shattered and seared
The day of her fight is neared

Leave her alone O canny who betray
And he who promises away
Hurl not at her a dark day
Wait now she is to say

Leave her alone O desperate solitude
Accept her renewal of humble servitude
Unmarked her name, renowned attitude
Gather apologies, she has no substitute

Beautiful Thoughts

You are each beautiful thought
You make me distraught
You bring me serenity, complete my identity
Uproot my morality
I have waited too long
But time does me no wrong
You worth each moment of agony
A never-ending sea
Of beauty, of compassion; each uncontrolled passion
Each undefined impassion
You make my misery wrought
Ah! My beautiful thought!