The Poetry Marathon

The shed like a house

Guarding the yard

Unkempt grass

Loving the space.

Its my thinking place

The breezes move trees

Caressing the leaves.

Through my window now

I picture some snow

To cover the grass

Like a giant white sheet.

My eyes to fix

On very large trees

I will get out there

May sleep with the breeze.

Oh lazy Sunday

Tbe best day to rest,

To try and relax

With winter breeze.

Loving this chill

To invigorate,

Walking through it

Feeling alive.

Nothing like this on a Sunday.

What did I learn?

I wandered afraid,

they didn’t like me

they never have.

Two red checkers

they fell down the stairs

the class would then howl

as they dragged us away.

They threatened to call them

my friend would plead,

for only two checkers

to complete a set.

My heart pounded

then I got hit

by one stupid bitch

after I hit her.

I’d been provoked

a bully she was,

she left me in tears

for two red checkers.

They didn’t like me

I meant no harm

driven to tears

backed to a wall.e

Sleep? Why is it  hard?

tired I be,

sick and fed up.

Insomnia they say

here full of thoughts,

I crave for the dark.

The stars are my friends

the night won’t pretend,

our mutual love.

Heavy eyes set

the sun is a threat,

I have no regrets.

My eyes will close soon enough.

Twenty years ago, a little boy was born,

growing up so fast, oh where the time has gone?

Childhood just a blur, toys now left behind

little boy’s a man, the memories are kind.

He grew up too fast, I hold fast to him

can’t let him go, time is quickly trimmed.

not much I can do; really have no choice.

Little boy is grown, and he does have a voice

oh his childhood years, how they flew so fast

longing for that time, that wasn’t meant to last.

He will go his way, that time is almost here

little boy of mine, I’ll always hold him dear.

Treasuring that time, when we had been so close.

quite a funny time, he thought kissing was gross

can’t hold back those years, though I wish I could

to proudly let him go, the happy tears are good

I always knew he wouldn’t stay forever

little boy I love, he won’t lose that not ever.

Not given a choice

a homeless pet,

captured and kept

her fate had been set.

A kiss on her nose

a final farewell,

one night as a pet

a normal day met.

What could she do?

a sarifice yet,

for science she went.

to the stars she’d been sent.

What were her thoughts?

her fear had been great,

she couldn’t guess when

her life would end then.

Summer storm, rain sleeting down

thundering roars, oh thunderstorm,

have me get soaked, wipe all my thoughts

Punching the sad, delusion and mad

walk in the rain, can’t shake of the sad.

Depression that hangs with the bad.

Thee America

where is your heart?

look at yourself

what have we become?

hate has prevailed

caring has fled

perhaps there’s no heart

let history reflect on that part.

Her many poems

determination,

she may be well known

for her suicide,

But this hardly

describes Sylvia Plath

a genius in angst;

who always pushed hard

with written words

striving for perfect,

but never at peace.

Heavy set, shes out of breath

Inactive years,

Her mind is set.

Walk, walk, walk

Shell burn it off

Her mind may fog

From years she stalled.

Obese they write

Shes wants no more.

It may take years

But shell be fit.