The Poetry Marathon

the light’s too bright
and the sound’s too loud
and the ink is frozen in place

if i’d turned down the chance
i’d have missed the moment
that swept me up and
dropped me off and
left me here
one monkey short
or maybe just a hand

so throw me a rope
or hand me a line
and I’ll write my way back
to where the light illuminates
and sound talks sweetly in my ear

surrounded by noise
the noise in my head
fights the competition
and looses.

the crispy sweet
shell protects the
dark center
until it cracks
it sure wears better on an M&M

“The land knows you, even when you are lost.”

Lost in my tracks
I track back to where
I last remember
Being from where
I started thinking
Down this road
ahead of my feet
leaving my feet behind
unawares

The earth called up to
my mind, whispered
‘wait up’ and I thought it said
“wake up” and so i did
stop in my tracks and after
my feet reached mind
or perhaps my mind reached back
to my feet
and once again we stood together
on the spot of land that knows
where i am
and who i am
and where i’m headed

Mornning awareness
empty dark thought
beyond unexpected furniture
laughing

Dear Me,

Oh how I wish we could be two at once –
fully embodied at the same time.
How I’d love to be your friend, your playmate, your confidant.
How’d I’d love to laugh and play with you.
My sides ache just imagining how we’d crack each other up,
how we’d sit and talk for hours.

If we could be two at once,
I’d always listen when you wanted to talk,
and tell you what I think only when you wanted to know.

I’d encourage all your fanciful thoughts and dreams and visions and yes, even your silly inventions for how to open your dresser and get clothes to dress without ever leaving your bed on a cold winter morning.

If we could be two at once,
I’d hold the pillow over your ears when voice on the other side of the door got loud and it made you feel sick and scared and lonely.
I’d lay beside you and try to find a way to distract you until all things quieted.
I’d sleep in the bed across your room, and wrap my arms around half your stuffed animals so there’d still be room in your bed for you and no-one would feel left out.

If we could be two at once…

But we can’t.
So the best I can do dear self, is to tell you that I love you.
And encourage you to remember all that you know right now – in this minute.
It’s not what we don’t or didn’t know that would change things our lives for the better, but remembering what we forgot.

Pay attention.
Learn.
Laugh.
Play.

There is nothing you need to know that you don’t in each moment as it arises.
Be still. Listen. That’s all.

You are all the ‘magic’ you need – all the ‘magic’ there is.

How I wish we were two at on this end.
I sure could use you right about now.

I don’t like the words you want me to use –
at least not now, not now when I’m writing
under the gun and atop a concrete table
which under the best of circumstances I find too hard,
albeit less messy than a fir table with coffee fog and moonbeam trim
despite its built in shelf where you’d think you could readily dock your cup or canteen while you pen your prose or poems.

Hush now.
I have to write this damn poem.

“My favorite book is the one I’m reading,”
and she stole a heart
through an open door.
or maybe it was a window left ajar in case of needed escape
But Libby didn’t wear a cape,
just a crown
and held a torch
that shined the way
though not to where anyone thought they were going.

Off the island,
hordes shouted while the rest looked on
feeling naked and afraid.

Her favorite book was the one she was reading.
Of course, that one always ends.

She’d become a creature of habit.

Every morning three snoozes, 2 cups of coffee, and 1 long deep breadth before settling on her cushion.

Every evening a snifter of bourbon, a call to her mother, and kiss to the moon for the passing along.

Tomorrow, the moon won’t rise.

I sit here
in this forest
and follow
words through woods
familiar and not

lost in the sounds of
things that sway and
things that fall
and things fly
away my mind floats
until she captures my attention.

Fine legs
Sporting sparkles on her chest
and down her back
I get caught up in her musical hum,
and almost forget to kill her.