The Poetry Marathon

I’m being haunted by a terrible ghost

It keeps me awake knocking on my bedpost

I’ve tried to be a patient host

I’ve even tried raising a midnight toast

But the phantom returns every night to boast

This terrible ghost is always there

Making sure my flaws are laid bare

It fixes me with a judgemental glare

I wish its ghastly sheet would tear

Because it has given me an awful scare

That terrible ghost drags across the floor

Making sure that I don’t have to snore

I’ve never been so afraid before

Keeping it company has become quite a chore

I just don’t think I can take it anymore

You terrible ghost it is time to pack your bag

Tear your sheet and make a white flag

Your haunting days have hit a snag

Get moving you ghoul no time to drag

And don’t expect anything from me in your mailbag

Goodbye terrible ghost, again I say adieu

Running you off has been a breakthrough

You aren’t around to let my failures accrue

Even at your worst I found a way to push through

I feel so alive, fresh and brand new

That alarm clock rings down to my very soul

Every morning with that infernal toll

I hate it so much that I forget

Just how lucky I am to see another sunrise

Still, I can hit the snooze button and close my eyes

for nine more minutes.

An old cowboy stood alone in the muddy street

Gun at his hip and boots on his feet

And he called out loud so that all could hear

“I may be old but I don’t have any fear.”

“Send out the best and fastest gun around.”

“I’ll beat him on the draw and drop him to the ground”

The people in the town could hear his shout

But no man that heard bothered to step out

So the old cowboy walked to the saloon

And with the toe of his boot he kicked a spitoon

“I’ll fight any man in this place.”

Came the words from his grizzled face.

But the room full of men paid him no mind

There was no fistfight for the old timer to find

So the old cowboy just ambled on home

And when his old wife asked where he did roam

He just shook his head and smiled

No man is fool enough to face me whenever I get riled

It is right about the time of morning

that I would roll over and reach for you

and settle back to sleep holding you

I’m not quite awake when I reach out

it comes from a place of genuine need

and so when you snuggle in close against me

I know that you must need me too

I promise that I will always reach for you

Any time of day or night

Is it really your pleasure?

To drop chicken and waffle fries into a fryer?

Extra sauce please.

Your pleasure?

I’m no one special, just a fast food buyer.

But the words come with such ease.

It is my pleasure!

As if this sandwich is meant to inspire.

Magic words like a cheerful disease.

Your pleasure indeed.

Even the fireflies have gone to bed

They left me alone with words in my head

Strands of ideas to be turned into thread

Or picked apart and tossed instead

I’ll stare out the window into the night

Hoping to see a small flash of light

Inspiration to be pulled from the dark

Both of us watching for one more spark

When the summer sky rumbles with thunder

and darkened clouds roll in the skies

and lightning tears the heavens asunder

and the rains come down with soft reprise

We witness the world washing things away

sometimes the things we know are taken

in the violent and stormy display

It leaves us frightened and shaken

This fear of losing the familiar that we accrue

holds us prisoner in a world of our own doing

without hope or thought of ever starting anew

all the while knowing of our eventual undoing

I could tell you how lonely it is

In our bed at night

And how I just dread to turn off the light

But I suppose you already know

I could tell you that I’m out of sorts

When your off and gone, and aren’t around

When it’s just me here and you cannot be found

But surely you already know

I could tell you that I don’t eat as good

When you aren’t standing at the stove

Cooking up a tasty treasure trove

But you just have to know

I could tell you I count the hours

Until you come home again

Watching the clock, and agonizing within

But I know you’re counting too

I could tell you how happy I’ll be when I see you

Coming through the front door

Just how much I care for you, oh how I adore

But I know you feel the same

I could tell you that I love you so

And I’m complete when you are near

It makes my heart swell and sing to have you near

But I know you’ll be home soon

Goodnight catfish, I’ve done all I know to do

I’ve thrown everything that I can think of

Made every attempt to catch you

I’m slam out of worms and stinkbait

Now push has come to shove

And I just can’t sit here and wait

For you to break the water’s surface

I guess you won’t see me waiting above

I know that you’re there, though I ain’t seen your face

So I’m headed home now, time to pack it in

I’ve got a whole bag of cornmeal to get rid of

My wife won’t believe where I’ve been

You won’t find it behind any downtown bar

It only comes in a clean mason mason jar

Cool and clear and deceptively strong

Toss the lid to the side, you can’t go wrong

Take a swig and pass it around

Especially if somebody has sorrows to drown

That jar will pass from hand to hand

Tilted back until nobody can stand

That sweet elixir will conjure the best stories

From only the most lewd and off color categories

When the jar is emptied just put it aside

Open a new one and swallow your pride

A jar of good times is never in short supply

It’s the only safe way for a Southern man to get high

When you open your eyes in the morning after going all in

You’ll feel just good enough to get started again