The Poetry Marathon

A world that is not this one 

Does not come with rainbows and butterflies 

Everywhere I go.  

A world that is not this one  

Does not need magic and witches 

And princesses and fairytales.  

A world that is not this one 

Does not come with peaceful territorial disputes 

And no weapons and no war.  

A world that is not this one  

Does not want to be painless,  

An imbalanced utopia.  

The world that is not this one 

Simply has me living with my heart on my sleeve 

Never fearing regret or living in excuses or  

Being surprised when the pain goes away.  

Life is like a box of pizza 

You never know which piece 

Will burn the roof of your mouth.

My life is a ritual,  

Living each moment in precise, calculated strokes 

to avoid veering towards a path of misguided sanity.  

Running away from that  

Which no longer serves me 

Is the same as turning away  

From everything I know to be true 

And I can never stop running.  

My skin is made of smoke 

Floating among an abyss of stars 

Falling from trees with hues of crimson and maroon,  

white rays reflected in glittering  

Waves, a sea of unknown tranquility. 

If there is nothing 

Of the past left alive, please 

Become eternal.  

A kaleidescope of butterflies signals the awakening of Spring,  

the typhoon formed from the flapping of its wing’s flirting with my hair  

The sun’s rays not yet hot enough to burn my skin  

With memories of that which will die again with time.  

Raise your flags, raise your glasses,  

And breathe again; it is finally over.  

We have won.  

Version 01:

I sing the song of my people,  

A loud voice in a sea of quietness  

Before she approaches me.  

I freeze.  

While I am a tiny but mighty frog,  

I have terrible stage fright.  

Version 02:

Luck is a fine thing 

That we have crossed paths at this point in time, 

Creating a delusional reality of spontaneity  

That I am able to experience fully,  

With all of my heart,  

For you.  

All I want to do 

is make myself happy for  

a living full time.  

(clt+s)