The Poetry Marathon

On powdered wings we glide

towards sticky sweetness

a nice surpirse.

Who leaves this treat?

This trickery display?

Luring midnight butterflies

a moths flame away.

Out of our element, a risk of feast

To feed on daylight

and forrbidden sweets.

Our ritual is of flight

Not of sweetness, nor of light

for we are midnight butterflies

on powdered wings we glide.

Your sweetness cannot trap

a gypsy of the sky.

C. Churchill

the corridor is dark as I make my way toward the light

thirteen steps down and an unforgiving right.

I stumble, knees bruised

grabbing walls as I choose

this journey, not far but inifintely deep

walking past darkness

in order to breathe.

the light is there although I cannot see

through a door

waiting to be opened

by hands of the free.

C. Churchill

A rustle in the leaves

awakens me

the sunlit dapple

turning green to silver

and blue to bright

A cool wind caress

finds June warmed flesh

a magical sign

the solstice has come

Freeing us from the curse

of our dark winters song

C. Churchill

i am girl turned woman

i am truth yet stolen

i am the backwards glance and the last dance

for all that i am

and all that you see

I am forever learning

that I am unapologetically

me.

C. Churchill

Short answer: Yes!

Longer more realistic answer: Um life is unpredicltable so depending on how much sleep I get the night before, readiness is questionable. The first 24 hr marathon I ever did I was tending bar through ten hours of it. The second marathon was a breeze compared to the first. This will be my third 24 hours of poems and I will be posting all of my pieces here as well as my instagram account. @cc_writes if you are interested. So we will see how the followers like that action lol. Anywho, I am excited and no just typing random ideas as my coffee has yet to pull me into complete focus. I bid you farewell and see you all very soon.

xoxoxox C.

The sun has risen

Almost in a teasing manner

Ever so slowly burning my tired eyes

Yet playful as usual beckoning the day

I cannot play today dear sun

For I need to rest these weary eyes

But dear writer I already miss you so

Dear sun I miss you as well even though you are burning my eyes through my skull

And making the birds ever so loud

But you have fun dear sun

I will catch you at your sleep

When the birds have gone

And my eyes can

Finally breathe

I miss the smile I had in your arms

The tender sweetness wrapped knowingly

Peaceful

I miss the cool softness of your touch on my head

I miss the pooling of sheets on this sweet bed

Aww sleep how I miss you

Soon you will be mine

I will enjoy you for many hours

Perhaps till the end of time

He watched her but she knew he was there

She was no fool to a quick drawn affair

A muse she had been

Since 14 years old

Many an artist painted her bones

But she sought more than a brush could give

Playing to the night

romance and danger to live

but alas her coy nature

landed again in the artists picture

He gave me roses

Again

He knows I hate flowers

Especially roses

How cliché can you get?

And it wasn’t even a simple red rosebud

It was two dozen premium Peruvian Gold Circle Rose Winner roses

With blooms so big I could cover my face

Maybe that’s what he wants

Maybe he thinks these roses will cover what he doesn’t want to see

Or maybe just to cover my mouth

But I don’t think there is a rose big enough for that

Above

She screams

So loudly

You think they would stop

But they are machines

Machines filled with men

The smoke billows from mouths and pipes

As they inch across

She screams

Attempting to get closer

As the smoke chokes

Her frail bird frame

And then it is done

No amount of screaming

No amount of

Screaming

Her nest

Lay on the ground

Her babies

Her sweet little chicks

Gone

Not even an afterthought

Coffee break

The men have left

But still

She screams