The Poetry Marathon

Matted grass, where bodies had lain,

a swirl of capillaries on the neck, like a tie dye.

Me sitting on the car hood and it began to move.

You hung out the passenger window grasping for me,

with awe and concern on your face.

Your shirt rising with the reach, to expose your scar.

The skin on the lower back like a pizza,

from when the furnace exploded.

You were eight, and bending to unload the clothes dryer.

When I see the poster, of Robert Plant and the bird- I always think of you.

You died while out with new friends from work,

did they leave you on the floor?

Were you thinking, suffering, listening?

Were you happy, blissfully unaware of the fuss?

You laying there, like Gulliver.

Did you feel tiny men rushing around,

feel them staking pieces of your hair to the earth?

The chaos flowing all around your still body,

a debt that must be paid.

I want to love you in that moment, stroke your face and tell you-

You were my Nicky Arnstein.

The Black Void

Sucking up space

Light bends

Fear comes in waves

I am being pulled in

Who will feed the cat?

You have my heart, take my liver.

My spleen.

You f*cking Butcher.

Carver. Carving me up.

You can’t dissect me anymore.

Not any more, than I dissect myself.

Every word, Every touch, Every moment.

I have picked them apart.

At seeing them broken, I have reassembled them dutifully.

Carefully. Swiftly.

I wrap myself in a mossy blanket of misery.

Wet leaves stuck to my face, forest kisses.

A slippery Selkie out of her skin.

I want out. Out of this forest.

To transform back to the cunning sea.

She will heal me.

A pretzel twist and salty lick. Yes.

You said you loved the new sheets, before dragging me across them.Yes.

You said out loud “This is how it’s supposed to be”. Yes.

Did I love you as much in the slap, as I did in the kiss? Yes.

And that time you took a sip feeding me, mouth against mouth. Yes.

Yes. I say Yes.

Yes to you! 

The fire is embers, after hours of crackle and burn

Good morning, you

Who has mowed me over, and over again

In the soft moonlight, taking inventory of my every whim

In my dream a snake and a dog

Me standing stiff as the dog dies

The snake slithers into the shadows.

Me standing stiff in my dream

Wondering

Wondering how I’d let something that

dangerous into my life.

Greetings All,

I just found out that I have to post an introduction. My name is: Maureen McInerney Mleczewski. I am doing the 12 hour (Half) Marathon. I’m quite rusty, but hope that this is a useful move for me. I wish you all luck in your writing.