The Poetry Marathon

Poem 20: Naming the stars:

I’ve always wondered whether we’re spending too much time or not enough naming all the stars out there. Deciding which ones will be famous and which can live a quiet life just because. It has always been fascinating to me that there are so many pinpricks of light in a single galaxy and each and every one of them is important for something – or we wouldn’t be naming them after science and decades and our loved ones. Or we wouldn’t be spending so much money trying to get ourselves out of orbit and into their many outstretched arms for warm hugs and a certain sense of belonging. There’s something I’ll just never fully understand about naming the stars – but if it makes you happy than I’m looking forward to all the new ones we discover and the articles about where the names come from. And even though I won’t be alive for this, I hope that new myths and legands and stories are created around each and every one of them for the generations to come – so there is always something to be in awe of. Even if Earth is no longer our primary home.

-M. rene’

sincerelybluejay poetry

Slowly but surely gradually but impactfully making popcorn and making progress as hour 19 kicks off. And there’s something so beautiful in the fact that we are still here despite everything that has been thrown our way – lack of sleep, lack of veggies, lack of movement, and then even losing internet connection for a brief moment. Anyway here we are and poem in the works with no real prompt

Poem 19:

We always complain about how we

don’t have enough time to do the things

we need and want to do – how there’s

not enough time in a day for living anyhow –

but taking a solid chunk of a single day

with a passion and some friends I am

beginning to realize that there’s plenty of time

when you’re willing to risk sleep and sanity in one.

-M. Rene’

sincerelybluejay

Did I really just write hour 18 – without typos? Yes, hell yes I did. Clearly, I’m in pretty good shape – which is awesome! I have loud rhythmic jazz blaring into my ears and I think that is partially to thank for the wonderous energy and awakeness coursing through my veins. I have a poem in mind… maybe kinda sorta, Idk, we’ll see what happens in the next however many minutes til midnight ish

Poem 18:

The pink tinged purple spaceman

swimming in something we define as

the galaxy but still have no idea how to

actually describe – is staring at me from

my monitor – much larger than I am used to

and simulating something lifesize and real

as opposed to the imaginary guide he

usually presents himself as. And now it

is midnightish and I know he wants me

to join him in the void – but I can’t.

Not yet.

-M. Rene’

sincerelybluejay poetry

Prompt from BlueJay Prompt Journal: What never mattered, anyway?

Prompt 17:

Somewhere in northern lousiana

but farther south than I’m willing to admit –

there’s a house with a dusty rose bar stool

that has had four dozen poems written about it

and a drawing of a monkey holding a unicorn

on faded newsprint paper – in charcoal far too

perfect to have been crafted by whim.

Together they hold on to everything that is left

of the person I was simultaneously most proud

and least proud of being – wrapped up in empty

bags that held kona coffee at one point – but smell

of pistachios – because that’s just how things in this

place were. They followed the rules of reality –

but were somehow still part of something entirely different.

It was in that house that you told me – to follow my dreams

and fuck the expectations thrust upon me. Where you said

you’d forever be my artist if only I could continue to write.

And now you’re back but the house isn’t and my eyes

swell with tears I don’t know how to explain. And you are

indeed my artist – but even that does not feel like

enough.

-M. Rene’

Prompt: Dance with me

Poem 16:

I’ve been here for far too long

with no real idea of what I’m doing

or why – but I’m going to beg you

to shut up and dance with me –

because I need one hell of a distraction.

-M. Rene’

Sincerelybluejay poetry

Hour 15 – okay let’s do the things. Let’s keep going I think I’m going to use a prompt from the poet rajah again “wonder where tomorrow is”

POEM 15:

If things continue to go this way

I’ll have no choice but to wonder

where tomorrow is and how we

are supposed to get there in one piece.

However, we chose this path –

we signed up for this and it is

now up to each and every one of us

to do the things we said we would.

-M. Rene’

Sincerelybluejay poetry

Poem 14: Imagine someone has sent you a text message at one am saying “do you ever think of me?” how do you respond < From I am Incomplete without you prompt journal

“Do you ever think of me?” comes across my

far too well lit screen for one am on a Tuesday.

In my delirium and awe I hold the phone like it

is all I well ever have left of you – regardless of

where this conversation goes or how quickly it

gets there. Of course, I do – especially in the winter

when the tea just doesn’t get hot enough to actually

warm my bones; nor does the ginger get flavorful

enough to erase the taste of your “how are yous”.

I mean, honestly, how could I not think of you

each and every day I remind myself that I should

write back to the people who have actually taken

time to send me letters and poems and postcards –

but just can’t bring myself to do it because I always

think I’m writing to you – and that gets far too personal

for the causal mail enthusiast. And really, what kind of

poet would I be if I didn’t let you cross my mind

more often than not, because you were afterall

my most authentic reminder when I could not tell

who I was trying to be or what all the fuss was about

anyway. It is one am on a Tuesday and I know I should not

even consider responding to you – not right now at least.

But I send back “with every new poem” instead and turn

the phone completely off, tuck myself underneath the

blanket with a little too much weight, and let Tuesday

arrive in the way that every day should be able to:

uninterrupted.

-M. Rene’

SincerelyBlueJay Poetry

As we have now crossed the half-way point, I have replenished my snacks and water and cold brew – and even though there’s not a prompt calling out to be utilized this hour I feel like I’m at least somewhat human again and honestly that’s the best start to the second half I could have possibly hoped for. And not like any of you asked or anything, but I’m also going to say I’m SOOOOO glad I did a chair swap for this event because my back would usually be KILLING me by now – but I’m actually doing okay. Rajah and I had a random dance party before the start of the previous poem and I’m thinking that might be a good habit moving forward. ANYWAY, I’m searching for a prompt now – let’s see what calls to me…

This is “Houseplant Symphony” from the BlueJay Prompts book I released earlier this year – available on Amazon and my personal website www,sincerelybluejay.com available worldwide at both retailers!

Poem 13:

On Sundays the houseplant symphony

begins in earnest and carries on throughout

the entire afternoon in full force – there is

a certain sort of beauty that comes from a

simulated rainforest in the middle of a desert.

And another very different sort of beauty

that exists only in the strange hours of

noon to five pm on a Sunday in this space

we’ve built for ourselves and each other

and really no one else, although they all

seem to come and go as they please.

This symphony though – the reason we

are even wasting time or breath is wonderful.

Playing the raindrops, rhythmic breath, and

even taking time to let the silence shine as well.

It reminds me that we are all living through something

or living somewhere we do not belong – and yet

we manage to survive. To flourish. And if we are lucky

also to inspire a few more people along the way.

-M. Rene’

SincerelyBlueJay Poetry

Well, if I complete this poem, I’m half way there – I can do this – I can get this out and successfully.

There is no real and actual prompt here – but at the same time – I’ve been doing these cute collages between poems and this is kinda inspired by the most recent collage I made.

Poem 12:

My love, it has been far too long since

I’ve sat down and opened these veins for you –

taken all the things going on in my life and

condensed it into a letter that only you would

ever take the time to read, to understand, or

consider responding to. A piece of paper

folded three times to ensure that all the words

get to you – exactly as they were intended to.

And there is a certain level of artistry that

goes into each and every letter mailed out to you –

usually on Fridays so that it will arrive on

Monday when you need it most – because I

have gotten this down to an exact science.

Just for you, for the person I am able to be

between lines of spilled ink and well-considered

intentions – conversations – and authentic questions.

My love, it has been far too long since

I have taken the opportunity to write to you –

and today is the day that shall be remedied.

Once and for all.

-M. Rene’

Sincerelybluejay Poetry

I love the blog, www.iwrotethisforyou.me and it’s fancy randomizer feature over on the right hand side of the page. And so that is how I landed on the inspiration for this – poem 11 – because progress is indeed being made even if it does not feel like it.

Poem 11:

The things that matter to you

right here in this moment are

all the things you’ve never known

how to make space for but have

kind of sort of attempted wanted.

These are the things that make

you into the person you claim to be

and should be treated as the precious

opportunities they truly are – regardless

of how uncertain you may be or how

tired you are beginning of this moment –

so worn out that you could let it all simply

slip by without a care in the world if only

you were unaware a while longer.

-M. Rene’

Sincerelybluejay