The Poetry Marathon

Eight o’clock is at hand

a most productive day has been had

Now as the time winds down I find

tiredness slowly creeping its way in.

My Brain turning into cabbage

I try to manage writing another

creative piece.

Finding solace in the fact

that I have gone the distance

in accomplishing a feat of myself

I thought to be an impossible task

placed before me.

I must prepare to rest

for who knows what great

adventure tomorrow may

yet lie ahead.

We as a society

have become congenial

with the use of prescription drugs.

Some popping pills for cheap thrills

becoming addicted in the process

to the high it gives.

The youth mixing codeine, soft drinks and candy

because their favorite celebrity says it’ll make

them feel magnificent.

Doctors selling their Hippocratic oath

” To First do no Harm” away for the right

price it’s a wonder how they sleep at night.

The Blue Wall of silence unequivocally permits

violence when it is one of it’s own doing the violating

Giving serve and protect an even deadlier meaning.

Treating the world like their personal playground

letting everyone know who the biggest gang

in town truly is, disregarding certain members

of the public’s safety when interactively engaging

with the people.

Deplorable actions only lead to minor

infractions, believing that they are above any

reproach at all.

The Blue Wall keeps the good ones

from doing what is right whenever

they see something they don’t like.

I ask you how is The Blue Wall any different

from no snitching that has been adopted

in the streets?

Both labels anyone who indeed

talks as a filthy dirty rat?

Both puts a target on the narcs back

and makes them susceptible to being

attacked.

Both the code of two different gangs

just worded differently as to not sound the same.

To the future Mrs. Jennings whomever

she may one day be I write this letter

to say thank you.

Thank you for allowing me

to be apart of your journey navigating

this thing we call life.

Thank you for being patient

with me I know at times my stubbornness

tends to get in the way.

Thank you for being

The Authentic you

The Genuine you

the you that gave my heart

physical butterflies.

Most importantly Thank you

for loving me in ways I never

knew actually existed.

With you I have found not

only a lover but my best friend

my ride or die

someone in who I can totally

confide.

I thank God every day for him

sending you his angel my way.

It took just over ten hours to convict

the jury of twelve saw no reason

to dismiss or acquit.

The evidence laid before them made

clear that something must be done here

With a callous nature and malicious intent

the defendant intentionally decided not to

release his knee off of George Floyds neck.

Sitting in that chair in the courtroom

awaiting his fate stunned when the verdict

was giving “GUILTY on all Three Counts”

his face flushed red with dread as he now

comprehends the gravity of his situation.

A collective sigh of Relief being extricated

from the mouths of people around the world

who through a video bared witness to

the evident execution of an unarmed black

man was expelled at that moment.

Twenty two and a half years the defendant

was giving seems a little light to me

But hopefully this finally gives the Floyd

family some Peace.

It is 3pm I find that eating grapes

and keeping my favorite song

on repeat helps me to think

and get the creative juices flowing

for the task at hand.

Spilling these words of thought

on this digital paper carefully

crafting a legacy in which I

can ultimately be proud of.

Staring at this computer screen

with such a rigorous drive

Days like this I am reminded

as to why I love to write

why I love to paint vivid

worlds with words.

Everyone has a drug

of choice writing just

so happens to be mine

for when I pick up the pen to

write there is no greater high.

She smelled like fresh linen and lavender

as we embraced one another with our arms

wrapped firmly around each other as if

we were shielding ourselves from the

world itself.

Her lips tasted like a sweet mix of watermelon

and strawberries no doubt a result of the lip gloss

she always kept in her purse.

Here I felt safe

Here I felt complete

Here in her arms was everything

I had ever dreamed.

Dreams turned into nightmares

memories forever scattered

on the floor of my mind

like broken glass.

Picking up the pieces

of a life that I left

behind when I allowed

myself to become entangled

in all of your lies.

And despite the many oppositions

from those who have my best

interest at heart

I chose to continue to play

my part in the role never actually

casts for me.

I guess I should’ve read the fine print

because then I would’ve known

that I wasn’t your lover at all

I was just your understudy.

I had a talk with my depression today

I told him that I’m tired of the

doubt he makes me feel toward

myself.

I told him that I’m tired

of all the self loathing

and him controlling all

of my emotions.

I told him that I’m done allowing

his influence on me,

I can no longer in good

conscience stand idly by

as he continues to drain

every facet of this life

that is mine.

I told him that

I’m getting up from

this ledge and that

he no longer has

the edge.

I told him that

Today I break away

from all things negative

Today I start again

freshly renewed.

I told him that

Today is the first day

I begin the next chapter

of my existence without

him weighing me down

like an anchor in

my emotional ocean.

we’ve been here

before he and I but this

time it’s different

this time it’s concrete

this time I refuse to

offer my soul as a

sacrifice upon the

altar in which he seeks.

Sit down pull up a chair and listen

as I share these stories with you

Some will make you laugh

others will make you cry

Some will leave you wondering if

they are all just a bunch of lies.

Verbal conversations stoke

the fires of inspiration

the dedicated listener

picks apart every piece

of the words being deciphered.

Transcribing each syllable

and soliloquy being said

like a court stenographer

writing shorthand.

Opinions being giving on the topics

cast in real time on the internet

by the host and possible co host

of the show can quickly sway

the public’s perception of whatever

subject matter discussed.

I walked out the door for the last time

without one word or even saying goodbye

I refuse to stay and continue to put

my heart through the constant pain.

Why oh why God did it have to end this way?

promises we once made now

share a hollow grave.

I wonder if you even noticed I left

I wonder if you hold any regrets

I wonder if you ever loved me at all

or if you knew we were destined to fall.

I want you to know that the only thing

I truly regret is the very first day we met.