The Poetry Marathon

Big dreams
Big schemes
Ruined by war
Marry often
Marry for profit
Always wanting more
Do it yourself
Don’t settle for less
Break men’s hearts
And deal with the mess
Persist though famine and drought
Never wanting to be without
He would stand all he can
With the baby gone he ran
Would she see another day
With a broken heart
None could say

Worlds within bubbles
No words to speak
No exchange of ideas
Or liquids we leak
Echo chambers
Of fear
Losing our grip
Needing increasing pain
To form a tear
Blame all around
And no one in charge
Only thing in the city
Is an enemy at large

Digging through drawers
Clearing the pantry
Dividing mementos
Fighting for claim
Blood against blood
Stealing her name
Forgetting the love
And the foundation of faith
They tear and rip
At all that remains

A light scent and a warm breeze,
A tune that melts the worries away.
Weightless, touchless, sensory void
Receptors blocked and muscles relaxed.
Energy pulsing at a low voltage,
Just keeping pace with the lub of blood.
Fading and stretching into nothing,
Life evaporates into dusk.

Pruned trees and painted houses
Plateaued careers and stale marriages.
Groomed children and polished cars
Swimming pools and 3 car garages.
Sheltered from rain, and the outside world,
Until tragedy sneaks in to the tiny circle.
When friends must comfort and console and aid.
Gifting food and time and labors.
For the first time, the did something for love.

Your arms enveloped me
And your hands covered my head
When I was little.
Your words comforted me
And a held hand protected me
When I was little.
You taught me to love
You taught me to grow
When I was little.
I used my hugs to heal
And my words to comfort
Shared my experiences
And gave you a legacy.
You will always be larger than life.

Scratches and cracks on the surface
Refract the light pushing to get in.
Through the bends and breaks of the foundation,
Searching for center.
Fueling the core that keeps turning
Long after the will has escaped.
Sharp corners abound
But the structure does not break.
It struggles to lift and create
From the fragments that fall.
They are unshaped
Without scratches themselves,
Sheltered for a time,
From the crumbling giver of life.

This morning a life is past.
Looking back on joy, on passion,
On loss, on ache,
We see reflections of times
In the ever moving waters.
The ripples changing scenes
Shifting currents of dreams.
Some rocks are polished,
Others ground to sand.
Lapping waves quenching dry land.
Cupped hands reach out,
Grasping a drink for one.
It’s quickly gone
For this life is now done.

Losing it all
Never knowing what they had
It wouldn’t be the first time
Something awful had been done
In the name of love
Finally we see what two people do
When trapped with no way out
A lifetime had gone by
Without really knowing
The stranger in the bed
Broken hearts, broken promises
Litter the floor like shards of glass
Causing pain to those who enter
Without grasping the circumstance

A place separate and quiet
From the noise of life
Fluffy pillows and blankets
All smelling nice
Windows of stained glass
Creating a more rosy world
A fireplace and a radio
Simple comforts
An endless supply of tea and cookies
And plenty to read and write
Textures and colors that inspire creativity
And revive me to be the best for my family