The Poetry Marathon

Moon beams
illuminate 
the hush of fog. 

Silhouettes of fir 
cross the page. 

I write three words more 
and ease a sip 
from my canteen of coffee.

I don’t need a map of the world. 

I just need a map 
to carry love
from my heart to yours 

and back again.

I'm not planning to stay or moving in. 

But I’d like to visit 
from time to time. 
And fantasize that you are mine.

Love is not just sunny days.
Sometimes it storms.
Sometimes it rains. 

The best of loves 
weather the storms
embrace the rain and keep us warm.

But the forecast calls for sun.

A fledgling bird
won’t learn to fly
with its mother
always by its side.

But neither
can it launch itself
without its mother’s
constant help.

Don’t lock me out
I just want in.
I want us to be
more than friends.

I know it’s hard
for you to trust
in love when all
you’ve known is lust.

I’m not here
to rob you blind.
I only want
a peek inside. 

I’ll wait outside
and be your friend
but I hope some day
you’ll let me in.

You and me
adrift at sea
afloat on an ocean
of hopes and dreams.


Above us hangs
a blanket of stars.
An infinite sky
for a love like ours.

Blinders on
so we don’t see
the harm that’s done,
the travesty
of children caged
in a foreign land
so afraid and alone
though their cages are crammed
with others who sought
a better life
and wound up here
no hope in sight.

But it’s hard to look
and harder still to see
so we have blinders on
in this “land of the free.”
We are far from brave.
But those kids sure are
while we look away
their young lives are scarred.

Or we look fleetingly,
then wring our hands
and offer some logic
about foreign lands
and rules of law
or scarce resource
or how there must be consequence
of course -
for breaking the law
in the USA.
This country’s ours
not theirs we say.

When these children cry,
we look away.

Hold me close
don't let me fall.
I don’t need much
but I want it all.

Don’t turn away
when I reach for you.
Don’t close your heart
To a love that’s true.

Inside your world
Is where I want to be.
So open up your arms
and just hold me.

There are some things
you can’t unsee.
And some things you just
can’t undo.

You ask me to
forgive those things
but I can’t unknow
the truth of you.

So much is left
to “thoughts and prayers.”
It's become meaningless
like no one really cares.

Empty words
won’t stem the tide
of mass shootings
or suicides.

What we need
are better laws
and bolder leaders
to take up the cause.
 
Gun reform.
The time has come.
No one lives free 
while in fear of guns. 

While the lobby that holds
the purse strings of change 
keeps choking out progress 
and leaving blood stains.
 
But the blood on their hands 
hasn’t troubled them yet. 
So we’re left with these feelings
of despair and regret. 

We’re left feeling hopeless 
and helpless inside. 
So we send “thoughts and prayers”
each time someone else dies.