The Poetry Marathon

My dream is to have
A walk in closet, a safe
Space where I can be

anyone I want
Whenever I want. Without
Fear of the real world

Crashing down around
Me. Where I am protected,
Surround by all

All the things that bring
Me joy and making my life
Much more beautiful.

Mushrooms evolved to decompose trees.

Mushrooms grow by flooding their cells with water.

Mushrooms are alien organisms genetically

closer to humans than plants which live on food,

Water, and oxygen. Mushrooms are the largest life source on earth;

Their roots expand for miles in search of food.

There are no poems about mushrooms.

Mushrooms help trees talk to each other

Across a network of webs passing signals to other plants,

especially during an attack. Mushrooms create airflows

which shoot spores up to 4 inches into the air.

There are eighty different species of mushrooms

Which glow in the dark. Lightning boosts mushroom growth.

It is theoretically possible that mushrooms came

from an alien planet. There is a suicidal mushroom.

Mushrooms are absolutely badass.

There are over 14,000 different types of mushrooms.

All mushrooms are edible, but some are only edible once.

Poisonous mushrooms are called toadstools.

Fifty types of mushrooms can digest plastic;

Mushrooms are literally saving the planet.

The Death Cap mushroom is one of the deadliest

organisms on earth. More than 350 million years ago,

mushrooms were over 24 feet tall. Ancient Egyptians

reserved mushrooms for royalty,

Because they are a gift from the God Osiris.

Many cultures view mushrooms as gods, spiritual

and medicinal tools, and portals to magical realms.

There are 26 Mushroom Houses built in America;

Mushrooms make an incredible design.

Mushrooms are the definition of cottage core

And hygge aesthetic, a safe little umbrella as a home

Under which nothing bad can ever happen.

Mushrooms almost always grow in groups.

Mushrooms stay together for protection

Without even knowing it. Mushrooms are gateways

To greater things, natural metaphors that there is more

To the Universe than meets the eye beyond the oceans

And sun and stars and moon and that which is known and that

Which is not. Mushrooms are literally going to take over the world

So lets just spend this time in our little mushroom home,

toads living in our own little world

Where nothing bad can ever happen.

Version 1:

My heart has never had a home,  

Feeling lost on this planet as if 

This body was invited too late in history to 

Dance with this soul.  

My heart has always awakened to the  

Hollow echoes of longing to be  

Somewhere else entirely,  

Somewhere on an island of purposeful isolation 

Where I choose my own existence,  

Never needing to rely on anything but the tides to keep me afloat.  

My heart has never understood how to break away 

From a practical reality where nothing ever goes right 

And follow its whispering cries that life transcends 

Everything that is even remotely known to us.   

My heart has never felt safe, always questioning  

The cryptic miracle of existence as if understanding it 

Would make it any less of an absurd phenomenon.  

My heart has always been afraid 

That it will forever feel out of place, 

Blind to the idea that someone or something    

Could feel more like home than home does.     

That music traveling through shivers down my skin 

Keeps me more grounded than my own thoughts ever could.  

Each page of a book invites me into hundreds of dwellings 

Where I will always be taken in,  

As if I have never left.  

Poetry makes me fall in love with fantasies that  

Will one day become mine.  

Traveling the world leaves crumbs of my soul  

In every city I have ever been a part of,  

Welding me into the landscape of everywhere,  

Making my home a part of everything;  

The stars and grass and air and that which is in between 

Becoming me, where my own skin has become my home.  

And love becomes myself.  

Version 2:

What is love, if not an experiment

Released by the government to test

Our patience?

Her favorite jacket is stained beet red,

The same crimson that is running down between her fingers

As everyone around her stares in tremor.

At this point, the color is enough to stain a bayou,

flowing down to her elbows as she runs to find cover.

Unable to find the switch to the bathroom lightbulbs,

The walls turn red in horror;

That is the last time she eats a bucket of cinnamon strawberries –

Her favorite treat –

Under a blazing carport in the middle of summer.

Leave them to the elks.

I want to be among the stars,

Not to find something that we don’t realize exists yet,

But the exact opposite.

I want to be alone among the stars,

Be the biggest part of this Universe

As it exists only for this one body.

I want the planets to shine for my pleasure,

illuminating a path of where I am meant to be.

I want the cold vastness of the dark

To spontaneously combust at the sight of me

As to keep me warm in the unknown.

I want to be sucked into a blackhole

And emerge somewhere where light has never been

Becoming the center of gravity as the sun once was.

I want to be among the stars,

Travel into the depths of where no one has been before

And become one of them.

I will become a star.

Ukraine is a land of freedom

A land of glorious mountains,

Exotic waters, wonders of the world,

and rich plains with a limitless urge to

Grow, share, and provide.

Our culture never seeks to amaze that

Ukraine is a land of freedom

Urging each human to create art and never stop singing

With our hearts on our sleeves

And our history written in the stars.

Each building, each monument,

Every book, every song, every word spoken about how

Ukraine is a land of freedom

Will be remembered forever and always

When it continuously proves its worth.

We are not like them,

We are not brothers.

We will never be like them, because

Ukraine is a land of freedom

And will never be anything else.

My country is facing death

With no end in sight;

But despite attempts to bring us down,

We forever will stand resilient to prove that

Ukraine is a land of freedom

Version 1:

The earth is actually flat

And over the edge you see people that are happy.

Version 2:

The earth is actually flat.

Hear me out, I can prove it.

All evidence suggests that

Life is but a figment of our imagination

Where each of us creates our own reality –

Meaning the earth is flat.

Also the sky is green but never purple

And water is a solid through which everything can pass.

Fish are actually flying creatures and birds

Walk on air with their feathery legs

Growing out of their shoulders instead of their bums.

Trees can talk but humans are unable to think on their own,

Their ideas download from invisible spores sent from galaxies

Far, far away where existence is only an option.

All of our intrusive thoughts are real

And our dreams are written by little creatures living in our hair

Making us miserable to the point that we must

Create an illusion of reality that certainly is not real.

How else can someone even fathom to imagine

That earth is in the shape of a ball?

Insanity.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

That is why, my dear, I am not insane but merely a genius.

No two of my canvases will resemble each other,

As I am a talented man of well-rounded abilities

Painting music, composing poems, and singing in color.

I carefully collect each shade of crimson and ultramarine and ochre

To recreate portraits of skin and blood and trees and air, pumping through a web

Of eternal creativity begging to be released by only my hand; the hand that feeds.

I build my own instruments of leather and wood, breathing in the soft wind of legacy

In my palms, in the notes of this page, in the music to be sung forever.

I have created a life of art for my infinite audience and

I have committed no crimes.

Allowing the world to kill me off has become my sin;

Through the fog, you will never find anyone else

As crazy as me.

There is no such thing

As an eternity when

We do not know what

Happens next. Till death

Do us part? Do souls collide

Somewhere else forever?