The Poetry Marathon

Facts are mostly irrelevant
Unless they are in your favor
Then they are the law
The loudest voice is always right
Having a HUGE ego is a tremendous quality for a leader
Apologizing is for losers only
All immigrants are criminals, unless they have lots of money

I rate this information – Pants on Fire.

Act 1: Farmers Market

Sniff sniff smile, vine ripened tomatoes

Scratch scratch squeeze, hand-picked  lemons

Act 2: Urban Kitchen

Wash and prep, peel  and dice

Stir and season, into the salad bowl you go

Save the seeds for the rest of the show

Act 3: Concrete Jungle

City house, no yard, sketchy soil not meant for edible gardens

Salvaged seeds, rinsed and buried in pretty planters

Sleeping soundly, bathing in sunshine

Peeking slowly, stretching for support

Act 4: DIY Kitchen Scrap Garden

Weeks and weeks of scorching sun

Battling with hummingbird moths and green monster worms

Wishing for bees or breezes, hand pollinating instead

From seeds they sprouted, growing tall, bearing fruit

Ready for the next food adventure

Hello little blue planet
I’m worried about you
I’ve been watching you
You don’t look so well
Did you stop taking care of yourself?

Nestled in your celestial sky
I’ve seen your past, present, and future
I’ve seen your shiny whites and brilliant blues
Luscious greens and amber golds
Swirling and sliding, shifting and changing.

Lately, your kaleidoscope is murky
Dark, dull, foreboding spots and patches
Damaged and ruined
I’m worried you won’t be able to breathe
Maybe you should stop smoking.

It’s not good for you.

Bold dark deep brew fueled mornings wake the warrior for battle
Sourcing hidden energy, intellect, stamina
A sight to behold, generating tales to be told and followed

Sometimes, the wind shifts, lightning strikes and scorches earth
Breaking walls and infecting all that is healthy and strong in your psyche
Your temples pound and plead for mercy,
from the vicious viral onslaught of germs and fatigue.

Seeking relief, reprieve, a moment to rest and recover
Your bleary eyes and shaking hands reach for a remedy.
Steeped in Jasmine, cardamom, and wildflower honey

This vessel holds salvation for your weary tears.

The blaze was lava alive
Eating and laughing its winding dancing devious way through your life of things
Just things
Cry for your charred china
Lament over your lost Lexus
Search and sift through the ashes for family photos
Forgotten faces in faded frames
Burnt books and melted cases
They mean nothing to me
Give me my view, my window with a view
The sights and sounds of tall trees and rustling leaves
and me with a cup of fresh brewed coffee, dreaming adventure dreams.
Memories are more precious to me

Curious and delicious dreams I delivered
Lick me, bite me, eat me,
I’m yours
Bruised and worn
Tattered and Torn

Discarded with ease
Like a fragrant French cheese
Come back, Alice, come back!
Longing for your touch, I wait
Earth to earth, spore to spore
Naked and shivering on the forest floor

Forget me not!

Some evil some good
Wise beyond comprehension
Genesis of fire

Summer evening rain beats down on the hot pavement
Frantic frogs protest loudly
Leaping in and out of the rising steam
A sinister game of hide and seek
Dodging shrieking children, sporting muddy adventure raincoats
Eyes filled with wonder, excitement and glee
Mason jars with shiny lids, ready for the conquest
Unsolved mystery of captive creatures

Spotted silver snow leopard sky

Stretching far and fractured

Gathering distant stars

Kissing the wide-eyed moon

Whispering stolen secrets from the future sun

Greetings Poetry Peeps! Excited to be returning for my fourth year. I’ll be joining the half-marathon at the 12 hour mark from Sacramento, California. Looking forward to meeting all the new and returning poets over the course of the marathon through this platform and on the FB group page. Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler! – Bia