The Poetry Marathon

Nameless wonders speak volumes in my unwritten heart.
Called to taste the moment their beauty can be shared
and forever trembling behind my unspoken hand.

Come forth wordless desire
eternally escaping my call for definition.
If not by words then
find sound and understanding in a chord or broken rhythm,
find comprehension in a touch, or stroke of hair, or waltzing precision.

Do not let yourself die in the quiet fire of my longings!

Birth yourself from me in colors splashed on canvas,
in caressing hands upon clay, delicate fingers placed upon strings.

If not by words then
make thyself known by contracting muscle, by tides of blood,
by sex and sweat and tears upon pillows.

It is you who inspires all forms of expression.
It is your authorship signed on every overlooked simplicity, every unappreciated complexity.
Do not orphan the magnitude of your gravity.
Give it voice, give it flavor, give it scent and color! Give it texture!

If not by words,
then by utter silence, in total darkness.
Removed from the need to name you.
Your beckoning emptiness is satiated
in the still surrender of my tongue.

The turning of a leaf speaks in deep rhythms to ring,
as the wind gently whispers through thick boughs of green fingers
anxiously awaiting the oncoming rain.

Even the soil seems loosened from under my feet, respiring,
giving way to make room for moisture to create new,
longing for the return of water.

The sounds of the sky draw near,
suffocated with heavy clouds,
purples drowning in grey.

As the heavens growl in preparation to weep,
the smoke’s pattern dances upon an alien wind.
Firelight sways bright, from within the circle of rocks near my feet,
flecks of heated kisses singe the hairs on my body.

The combustion of dry earth returns its resonance to the winds,
purified through fire and violently ascending into the celestial expanse,
to be welcomed in saturation,
to the gaseous culminations of the churning firmament,
and swell within the thunderous reservoirs of empyrean waters.

I, the Earth, the stars, my breath, all captured in awe, awaiting the falling of the rain.

Hello Everyone!

I’m excited to participate in this year’s Poetry Marathon. I’m a first timer and am looking to finish a half marathon this time around.

I’m 34, married, and have two young sons. I live in Warrensburg, Missouri USA on a small farm, though I lived in Kansas City until I was 27. I am a high school English teacher and a middle school wrestling coach. I enjoy studying chess, practicing martial arts, and writing poetry. I live my life heavily influenced my samurai ethos. I believe in the mutual cultivation of mind, body, and spirit/heart as a way to develop the complete individual. A scholar, a warrior, an artist. Through these paths all beauty is revealed. I like to live close to the earth, simply, and in service to others.

Poetry was the first form of writing I fell in love with, and is still my choice format. I lean heavy on free verse and believe the best poems come from raw, spontaneous purging. I cannot prepare you for what you may read in my poetry. While I do go back through and edit what I have written, I try to keep what I put on the page as unfiltered as what passes through my mind daily. I’m not promising any literary gems, or even that much talent, just random, poetic, ramblings that are a complicated way of saying very little. The works I create during the marathon may or may not inspire introspection in others. No guarantees. If anything, my poems will serve as a window for others to peer into my very probable insanity. I think like this, and I have a desire to write like this, so I am. I feel the Marathon will suit my style of poetry very well. Looking forward to what surfaces throughout this creative endeavor.

Best wishes to all.