The Poetry Marathon

Baby Loading…… (For Kristal)

This is the seed that was planted in tears-
Covered in grace and blessings.
This is the fruit that was plucked straight from heaven’s vine
When all the juice was sweet like cantaloupe dressing.
This is the moment,
The ripe moment dreamed of in time
when God decided to send you
To plant, then to sprout, then to grow;
Hidden deep inside your mother’s womb
Protected by your father’s hand.
This is the moment we have waited for-
The moment when what was planted
Will finally blossom and bloom
And make its way to earth’s dear door
For all of us to love.

Recipe for a Relationship
Ingredients
1 whole person
1 tender heart
a generous supply of time
1/4 C of empathy
1/4 C of compassion

Find one solid human being who is interesting and arouses something in you when you see them. Add one tender heart which will be good for most things, helping, cheering you on, wrapping arms around you as needed, etc. Add in a generous amount of time. You will need an ample amount to discover all the little things you need to know in order to make this mix work. Stir in your 1/4 cup of empathy. Are they able to put themselves in your shoes and you likewise with them? Now, lastly, add your compassion. It should make your mix pliable, able to bend and move easily. If mix is still a little stiff, add a few drops of tears from experiences from both of your pasts. Mix all together and bake slow and well. The relationship may be served hot or cold, either way you may make it a delicious treat.

she is (for Ebony)

she is legs in air, upside down
she is warrior queen, heart and smile
she is calm cool voice
breathe in, breathe out
she is always downward facing dog
strong back cobra posed
even breaths in lotus pose
she is sphinx rising
cat-cow up
lifting her head towards heaven
she is a beautiful body
showing us all how to live free

Good Evening, morning, wherever you are. Looking forward to completing the half marathon this year. Wishing everyone “good words and a clear mind”. Have fun and enjoy!

Carolyn (@lovepoet18)

there is a calm quiet at
this time of the morning
nothing stirring about in the neighborhood
no early walkers out for a lap around the block
or golf carts in gear across on the green
but birds are chirping
and the sun is rising over the house
this is the time i love best –
morning

nobody has to tell me what this is
no strange illness or mysterious disease
the late night aches and early morning blues
have lasted longer than expected
the insane need for conversation into the middle of the night
used to be good for my mind and body
but the recent lack if seems to make it hard for me
to concentrate
and my daily dose of kisses were good
for my overall attitude not to mention my smile
which happens less and less these days
i don’t need no doctor to tell me
i’m missing you
cuz you did a body good

she stood there for a long time
admiring this stranger from across the room
watching his hand at the small of his dance partner’s back
the way they glided effortlessly around the room
she couldn’t turn away
studied his broad shoulders
his dashing eyes
handsome face
and the longer she watched, she became acutely aware
of her hand on the table beside her
allowing herself to rest on its hardness
she continued to stare
could not resist the urge to let her eyes
follow the length of his legs
from foot to waist then waist to floor
wondering if she had ever been held as close
surveyed every single expression he made
the music slowed and in the spur of the moment
realized how altogether lonely
she really was

everything about him was larger than life
the way he opened a car door
pulled a chair out from under the table
put out a cigarette
he wasted so much time being extra
it was such a shame
that few people ever saw him be himself.

it seemed time to end the charade
let willie go back to the chocolate factory
enough games have been played
someone must have forgotten to ring the bell
when visiting hours were over
because she stayed longer than he loved her.

this is space
the gap between the lines
you are waiting for me to fill with some phenomenal words
that never come
this is space
the distance between my pen and my brain
and every year about this time
i write a poem like this
about this very space
this chasm of nothingness
this interlude of naught
this hollow slit of inconsistency
this
is
space
2017.