The Poetry Marathon

He met me in my dreams, by the river, where the crickets still remembered us, 

I lay in his arms, the moon, how she revered us, 

Life, oh she begs me to stop humming his song, 

He stayed with me, long after he was gone 

My grandfather’s house didn’t have a telephone, 

Loved ones lived on memory and good fortune, 

For the longest time, distance carried such importance 

That my grandfather was nearly heart broken, 

When his house was finally filled, with distant voices

I was fascinated with the idea of those who lived so far from home, 

I was enthralled by the idea of life, outside of home

If only we had listened to grandfather, 

When I ran away from home, I didn’t know I was taking home with me 

My mother hugged me goodbye twice but I only looked back once, 

I belonged to the distance now, the one my grandfather so revered, 

You see, I wanted to get away, 

Hide in the distance, so I may have an excuse to say, 

Talking to you twice a week is enough, 

If we talk more we’ll run out of things to talk about, 

There was a drought of voices back home,

And I blamed my absence on the abundance of things we shouldn’t say.

He whispers promises that neither of us hear, 

Safer, that his secrets always remain his, 

And mine dangling at the edge of my bed, where he lays

I melt, under his generous gaze,

For 16 hours of one lifetime, 

He belonged to me, 

For 16 hours, that could almost be a day, 

I modeled modest dreams of sand, in clay

And I pray, quietly, 

Oh how ardently, violently, passionately, 

Fate will tear him from me, I await patiently, 

For him to disguise his choices as fate, 

And mine as unfortunate 

As luck would have it, he left some dreams on my pillow, 

And no amount of rigorous washing could get the stains off, 

Now I sleep each night in his dreams

And he wanders sleepless, it seems

Well, now neither of us can sleep

It was a 6 hour flight, 

A smaller journey than I’d make on the road, 

On family trips, on vacations, 

It was an easy journey, it was awaited 

It was supposed to bring me home after

Many many months, 

And I dreaded each moment, 

For all the happiness of being home 

Was swallowed whole by the hallowing fear 

That I was trapped in a giant metal tube, 

Thousands of feet in the air

with no way out. 

I dreamed of peace, of an end to pain

Of an endless rain, 

Of breaking chains, 

In vain. 

It took me one lifetime to see

When are we truly free? 

To be human, is to suffer. 

I love the snowy, frosty, winters

The blowy dismissal as it enters, 

Centers, the stage of gloom, 

Merely because it is followed by bloom.

I was revered and loved, 

My words cheered and read, 

Read with love, with longing, in all corners of the world 

Until I met him and everything swirled 

My fame, my love, drowned in his name 

And then all I could think was him 

And so all I wrote was him

He came to me in a dream,

God, he used to whisper secrets divine 

Watched my thoughts unwind 

Behind, the ruse of godliness

Was unkind ugliness, 

Blind, I built his shrine 

But he never returned to my dreams

I no longer sleep

Oh, but I weep.

Seven years ago, I befriended the moon, 

I was young and empathy flew where it often shouldn’t have 

I wouldn’t have believed, if you told me then, 

I was lonelier than the moon, 

Why I was bolder, since I was younger, 

So I asked to befriend  the moon, 

I cited the distance, 

Oh, the grievance she must have, God was unfair 

Casting her away, while I was here

But my moon was kind, benevolent, 

Blind to my ignorance, 

She let me bask in the glory, 

Let me tell my story, 

Of how I vanquished evil isolation,

I could not have been alone, she was my consolation,

Ah youth, how I thrived in blind negation  

And swore on my honor and reputation, 

‘I befriended the moon’.  

Oh how I envy, the firefly
Warm and snug in her cottage
While I mask my distaste and muffle sighs
Of a life above the treeline
Strange, abundant, providence- how she denies
Me, the warmth and heat
Of the firefly