The Poetry Marathon

How do we know that

wind chimes scattered in the wind

always signal storms?

How I Wish

your red truck would have barreled

across gravel roads, straight to me.

Your headlights would have shined

blinding beams to my skyward eyes.

Your seats would have held

breathing bodies hot with kisses.

Your hands would have waved,

have held, have traced, have lingered.

Your heart would have stayed

out of Heaven, close to me.

Across Barren Skies

TapTapTap! The worm wriggles through the earth,

belly turned up towards the sky. Hearts stop, chase

each other through sunflowers, fields riddled

with souls waiting to latch. But pavements grow,

barrel up through soil, nails poked into old

oak trees, ends protecting the hardbacks within.

Sometimes

the old willow tree

grows

as if hands reaching up

towards

the fresh autumn sky

From Across The Pool

And the fire burns

as the hotel shines bright

Six rescue trucks light

the way, pick-up volunteers.

Flash, flash, flash the window

screams, holding tightly.

Lightning streaks across the sky.

Old red trucks pile

in, water tanks poised

to aim, but nothing

ever comes, no men

to bear arms. Electrical

stairwell waiting to win.

And the fire burns,

screams holding tightly,

wisps of hope trailing high.

A Rose Petal Crown

We splash and play,

fun’s little way

of bringing us

close together.

Swan towels lay,

naked as jays

and cling as one

in our hot tub.

Bubbles unite

what tried to fight,

jets soothe away

space we create.

A candle’s bright

flame, guiding light

makes our hearts glow,

red as petals.

Hey guys!!!

So happy to be here once again!

I’ve done this so many times I feel like I’m losing count! 5th one! Big ole number five. Hard to believe — a half, three fulls, and this will be another half.

I’m on vacation this year, nestled deep in the Kentucky mountains, which would seem like the prime inspiration point for some wicked nature-based poetry…but the internet connection here doesn’t cooperate with that notion.

But it’s okay. Everything happens for a reason.

Usually I use the Marathon as the main poetry-generator for the year, but this past year I’ve been in a writing group and have generated about a poem a month — which equates to what I’d be missing out on by doing a half. It all evens out.

All a part of God’s plan.

This year I’ll have my muse by my side, though. My star.

So we’ll see how this goes.

It is sure to be a good — nay, great — year.

See you on the writing side. 🙂

Blessings!

Katie<3

I wish I had the stars

that we saw, midnight walk

through uncut grass, broken

bridges holding our dance.

I wish I had the stars

that I saw in your eyes,

the twinkle of the Dipper

reflected on your car.

I wish I had the stars

to show me God never

failing, a hope to love,

stars of a goodnight kiss.

The Capturer

Sometimes I wish I could close my eyes

and not see the world around me. Pretend

I’m not the way I am, compulsed

to save. I take pictures of the dirt

because I love the patterns, afraid

to forget. I pick up flyers, ripped

by the wind, wanting to know stories

that weren’t meant for me. But if I shut

my eyes I cannot take things that aren’t

mine, can’t stow away pieces of the world,

can’t capture the things that captured me.