The Poetry Marathon

Duality was oft known

In a state that may change—

For the light—thou have shown

With words and motion— we re-arrange

For what was written

Mirrored reversed

A soul—to awaken

Where spirits conversed

For there is only one God that’s true

One by each word— crucified

By understanding who chose to pursue

The light that you— supplied

Blessed are they—who come to know

Truth that has been hidden under self—deceit

Blessed, indeed—when there’s time to swallow

Whose prophecies are fulfilled and whose become obsolete

Heavens formed of brass

Earth of iron below

As his belts stars do pass

The words which now follow:

Immortal gods centered in the cavity

Powers formed and some less known

For their shield of invincibility

As words that have prolonged their lives have shown

For if the time is of future place

And known they are to yet be

Fates must obey and even erase

Others fortunes and desired destinies

Iron then must sharpen iron

As a countenance must be raised

As we search and find Orion

Holding stars upon which we’ve gazed

The 11^th Hour

The 11^th hour was upon me

Time— urged me along

As I sat back down to count to three

Contemplating where I belong—

Prior to twelve but after ten—

First of numbers that repeat—

One and one— I said and then

No whole number is divisible within me

For to break the bonds that I contain

A broken number is found instead—

Half and half— to remain

As a reminder of what I said

The first and the last

The beginning and the end

The Old and New Testaments harnessed

Fundamentally, alone— to intend

The Word divided into Twain

Two books separated

Joined in marriage— they do contain

An androgynous word extracted

Sealed within its own spirit

Crucified Words bonded

Found to consummate

Life and death, which are both imbedded

The Ego appeared and spoke to me

Saying, “I” now wish to be heard

In a time that is of now—presently

In a time that’s yet conquered

The Ego’s debut

Appearing at hour nine

For as the ninth letter is said to construe

The “I” of what’s possessed by time

The Ego raised itself to say—

For it is “I” who (presently) speak these words

For “I” am also often found to convey

Time that’s said to move backwards

For the verb is found in times past

The tense that speaks of me

But when the motion of what “I” had cast

Spoken of time that’s been—done already

“I” linger in time that’s passed

Things— already achieved

Done— and yet am now surpassed

By the conjunction of an “am” presently relieved

Two worlds divided

Of both seen and unseen

A medium once confided:

“It’s by mediation that they convene”

A mirrored reflection

Inverted when seen

But its origin— we loosen

When the future was foreseen

For as the present time may serve

As a hinge to the past and future

A medium itself—is found to reserve

It’s very speech to that of the conjurer

A tongue loosened

With speech that reveals

Prophetic words—wantoned

To the very soul to which it congeals

The seventh hour— time fulfills

Each moment, each hour, every geist

Awakening ancient powers and skills

Only brought to remembrance when enticed

Lifted from times very essence

Ones knowledge is valued and priced

For the origins very own potence

Is found when a mediums life is—sacrificed

Communing with the dead

Brought to life— again and even now

For its one or the other we find instead—

To walk and talk— and to even vow:

For the time itself is found to be

Fulfilled and seemingly disguised

For whose words— that we now see—

Through a medium (virgins) life that was sacrificed

It was the sixth hour

Rain did pour—

As my mind scoured

Through old folk—lore

The clock’s hand began to rotate

As my eyes fixed to gaze

Synchronized with the hand of fate

I swear— its only existence was that to amaze

I glanced down to read some more

As time— began to reveal

The same that was; had been written before

And now was here in life that’s real—

Spirit of ancient kings—

Engraved and left behind?

Within these pages and these codings

Spirits lifted, guides assigned—