The Poetry Marathon

Fourth Hour

I Saw the Magic in Suffering         Prompt#4

The longer I suffered
I saw a light illuminate and
pain became an old friend.
It did not end.

I struggled through
wondering what could
anybody gain
from ruthless and persistent pain?

Laying in expectation of
deliverance rallies hope.
The power to evoke
the strength to overcome
Is nothing short of Magic.

Suddenly my head rose high
like a prize winning stallion,
gallantly strutting through,
wearing my medallion.

I drew closer,
to the end of the battle
my senses frayed
tattered and rattled.
The vision of victory
just straight ahead,
I rose up, a Champion
from my bed!

Compton, CA 90222
June 22, 2019@10:46

Third Hour

Letter to the Generations

Dear New and Coming Generations,
Baby Boomers, Millennials, Generation X.
What will be your legacy,
your history, your next?

Will your mark on this planet bare fruit,
or seeds of  destruction?
Who will lead the nations,
what standards need reconstruction?

The scholars, the priesthood,
the rank and the file,
Will they leave dynasties or desolation,
bitterness and guile?

Mark the generations from the first
to the last,
what lessons were learned
from our antecedents,
and from your past?

Will each nation erect towers
to rise high through the clouds,
and feign superiority in wisdom,
right in the face of God?
Will they turn their swords into
Plows making fertile
this barren sod?

Consider the man, woman, and child
and number their days,
Will long life and prosperity
be their reward?
Will millions die young,
From poverty and wars?

Generation to generation,
lend me your ears.
What will you do in
the next one hundred years?
Will the new, accuse the prophets
and execute the seers?

What gifts, what legacy,
What universal laws
Will be etched into stone?
Will they stand immutable,
Unbreakable, world-wide inherited,
forever renowned,
as the irrefutable
Highly Merited…
The Chosen Generation?

Compton, CA 90222
June 22, 2019@10:35

Poetry Marathon Anthology – Call for Submissions

Second Hour

 Musiq

Music is my sanctuary,
I make homage to this throne,
for healing my mind and my soul
when I’m troubled or alone.
Manifold melodies; ethereal  tones.

Lost in genres of classic, jazz, gospel
R&B then blues,
racing tempos and soft nuances
symphonies and fugues,
and no one around to upset the ambience,
or disturb the mood.

Hours upon hours changing
playlists and styles,
I get wrapped up in memories
and get lost for a while.

Reflections of people and places
marking major milestones…
Rights of passages
felt in the depth of my heart,
to the bone, to the bone!

Through blues and the gospel
the sound of suffering and victory
swells up in my soul,
from riveting shouts of glory,
to mournful cries,
being left out in the cold.

Music is my mainstay,
like eating struggle food
When you’re broke.
Oh!  The smells, the sensations
and the emotions it invokes!

R&B strikes memories of
Doo-wop groups competing
under the streetlights.
So hip… so cool-breeze;
such a teenager’s delight!

What soul-stirring joy I feel,
What torrent of tears
pours from my spirit,
from past misery and fears.
Soul music tells sad stories
while their images appear.

That song, this album,
those jazz grooves I’ve played,
helped write my Life-song,
and the history I’ve made.

Second Hour

Seventh Solstise
Compton, CA 90222
June 22, 2019 @9:46

First Hour

I’ll Take Next!

I've come to the end of another career,
no commendations,golden handshakes,
celebrations or cheers.
No one grabbed and hugged you,
or said, "I'm glad you were here!"

The hard work I did - forgotten,
replacements already assigned,
tenured but not weathered,
but they changed their mind.
"We'll get more bank for the buck
they said,
when we change the design."

Where will I go?
What will I do?
They just sent a "pink" slip,
but down the stairs, I just tripped.
Protecting my flock from 
that which was cruel.

The endless sleepless nights
creating miracles,
not always knowing what to do.
I'm worthy of my calling,
spending too much 
blood, sweat and tears
teaching school!

I heeded the call,
I wrote reform to revise the text.
Unappreciated, cast aside, underpaid
and recommendations stalled,
God knows I did my best!
Whatever He has for me...
I'll take next.                                                                                                      

Compton, CA
June 22, 2019 @7:22