The Poetry Marathon

He said he would be back tomorrow

He said he would see us the next day

He wouldn’t have said that if he was planning this

People don’t say things like that if they’re planning on killing themselves

Could you ever tell when I told you that and in my head I was already thinking about how my life would end that night?

There are ways to kill without leaving a mark

Injuries to the heart

Blows to the soul

There is no exact science to this

One never knows how many hits it takes

Sometimes the system is weak but requires multiple strikes

Or the system is strong and yet only one blow will fell it

There is no exact science

There is no list of rules

And no one knows

When the last blow is dealt

But when the person falls

We all feel it

They’re more world weary

Than when I last saw them

Even more so

Than when I met them

But underneath everything

I can still see the boys they were

While acknowledging the men that they are

We knew each other then

We still return to each other now

To celebrate the victories

And to bury the dead

Because one day it will be our turn

For now, it’s just Saturday night

I’m watching an old Kung Fu movie

And I’m just waiting for the boys to come home

Who will fight with me?

Who will ride into battle with me?

Who will turn the tide of the war with me?

Only these boys

These brothers

These knights of our round table

Racing against the sunset

Taking action when no one else will

And swearing oaths that last a lifetime

There are some things in this life

You can’t find twice

A bookstore like this

Where you can sit for hours

Watching life stroll by

And have books forced into your hands

That will change your life

This only happens once in a lifetime

I’ve barely eaten all day

But it doesn’t matter

I’very been hungry for hours now

But it doesn’t matter

I’ve made multiple plans in my head on what to eat

But it doesn’t matter

My soul finally feels fed

I finally feel secure

I have been wrapped in the arms of the boys I knew then and the men they are now

I have been cradled and protected in their arms

I have been reminded that people smile when they see me

That they reach out their arms to me

I don’t get courtesy hugs

I am given full-body contact and held tight hugs

The ones that say, I’ve missed you

I still care about you

We will survive this together

I remember this song

And I know which song will come next

I remember the summer that this album was always on repeat

In the book shop

I would sit long enough to hear it twice

While reading about a house that devours the inhabitants

It was a beautiful thing

It fit the mood of everyone that summer

No matter how many times you heard it

No one ever seemed bored

People would sing along

We would breathe it in

Sink down

And come to that point of zen

That was the theme of that summer

When it was too hot to think

And too humid to survive

And we swam through the air

Like gasping fish on the shore

Here there was oxygen

Here was an oasis

No matter how far I go

No matter how much time has passsed

No matter the season

No matter the reason

When I walk into this place

It always smells exactly the same

And I’m taken back

As if in a time machine

To a time that, at least now, seemed easier

We were carving out our lives

We were screaming into the void

We were fighting against corporate greed and apathy and exhaustion

And this was our safe harbor

This was our shelter in the storm

Even now

It still feels that way to me

When it rains it pours

Whether that’s a good thing or not

It’s raining in this house

And I’m collecting the drops in a bucket

An unhealthy habit no doubt

But this helps me keep track

Of the collection of sorrows

That are gathering around me

I’m collecting rain in a bucket

To keep it from coming up around my ears

And drowning me

I’ll take the bucket outside

And water the flowers

Then repeat the process

Until this rain ends

I keep making wishes

Throwing coins into the fountains I pass

But my coins are made of paper

Quick to dissolve

Like my hopes for anything

To come my way

Yet I still do this

My trail can followed by the bits of crumpled paper

That fall from my pockets

I keep thinking

That by some magic of transubstantiation

My coins will become metal when they hit the water

Finally becoming permanent and suitable payment

To any of the fates who might be listening

To a guardian angel who has a soft spot for hard cases like me

To any devil who is short on deals for the month

Just anyone

Who can grant this wish