The Poetry Marathon

Seeing clearly now threat which never existed,
Yet every waking moment imagined him to life,
Blighting rendering loving fosters quite toxic,
Composite being of unacknowledged edges,
Emptiness inside of cavernous cracks in me,
Fused together and breathed to worried life,
Always that which I never quite was,
Despite the sacrifice and prostrations near,
Always a threat from afar never to sight,
So dangerous a competitor I never quite see,
Reflecting in mirky pane only seeing the smudged,
As foe he will in non-existence win, and take from me,
Those fare I compete him for, driven only by the chase,
Me with my shadow tale around again.

Camera passes that sheer neglect,
We see and desire what sagas reflect.
Discarded and scattered, one too many.
Separate indivisible integral to any.
Beginning to blend, no longer care,
Fragile frame laden heartbreak to bare.
Existing out here cold cut limb,
Turned onto itself, life fading dim.
Noticing in sight ability to pick,
Out of billions, help this ones sick.

Fingers rest on another set of keys hours away,
Younger years and different way here,
Bright overdrive gentle handle with all care,
Struggle fault and two inches above water,
Nothing needs to actually be fair,
Exchange of selfless gestures,
A way around such conventions.
Refusing to ask or answer why,
Some hooks fuse in the mouths they lay.

Only long along an act, not person thing or being about.
To long to have my own self recognised exposed and tender
Giving what she knows she never possessed,
Making me enough by allowing herself to risk,
Throwing all in our skin to this game,
Risk but earned by all we went through,
So often we yelled projection & undermine,
Yet a reflection of all we yearn and hold
Sacred inside locked up away is apt.
What a frame to bound this wayward boy.

She sits on top
And pulls my string
Harsh she is not
Yet important it seems
To hold back the repeat
Of haunting she carries
Background security playing all night
Still excited yet distant
Better now be her shots.

Clamour around, so many self-professed,
Illuminate-for-hire, here and there too,
Shared light captured in boxes
Resold as an echo
Leaving all just to hope.
Used car resale commission spirit mercenary
In a culture so cut up for gain
Brightness ironically to be pre packed
Delved out and stocks there sold
Even if the box is empty still.

Ancestor continuity soften fluctuating wisp shaping smoke,
curling curating and carting itself back home,
replicated genome building medieval lived material,
consumption becoming believing in what went before.

Side step translucent symbolic branches,
sweeping out to sea rescue my individual,
treating as outer markings link me,
freer than most and yet still contained.

Joining limbs bigger Hobbsian state
brutish inflicted alone in hospital rooms,
lapsed fantasy immortality in imaginary games,
throwing lots in distraction alleviation.

Festering process unknown to its parts,
woeful inauthentic alienation abounds,
worthiness hobby involvement bourgeois,
chain stand, lemming last-link, choice?

Lifestyle float – breeze drift undulating undercurrent
unconvention creative veneer veil unruddered impulse,
perennial recess no respite gained,
restful erosion edifice strove at generations,
liberty restored in starvation dust bowl fester,
en-bond me in mechanistic systematic processes,
grant holy days in sweet brow labor contrast,
that blowing palm exotic wind frames,
and not replace to an unwarranted standing.

Stayed and settled, desperate refining pained rapture,
Crushed neglect, conditioned to not seek my peace,
Violence against self to hem-in,
Back to those old school days
With a Sunday letter written and master checked,
When all is but debris, return to a familiar act.

Craft and recraft at first one then more and finally six.
Hundreds of hours, multifaceted paradigms to contain.
Reshaping on spinning lathe, carving off myself, give smooth outside.
Taking back closure from no body ever buried.
Lest recipient as feared, a gift of pure sight, regard and cherish.
Only an elevator pitch perspective – cable cut, hurtling sobriety.

In swipe dismissal junk folder mute,
An object marked with purpose deliver,
To continue existing drawn on if needed future,
Marked with scent personal shared distant encounter,
Cultivated as a last intent to see if love ever was.
If love was it will melt and if wasn’t then closure taken.

Received stand out shock – who else in a moment,
Only time a letter crafted months ever gifted,
Few others return a thumb tap screen,
Yet scorn justification condemn the offering,
Ripped in situ whipping boy effigy,
Yet in magic talismen destroyed to enter unconscious and manifest full.

Holding tender bones bare of revulsion,
strole into final Sati flames
in sublime shining opposite – see!
Surrender engulfing come what may,
devote to the outer and flee when it fades.
Ambivalent to your coat, and I’m still here.

Glance into my eyes, exchange!
Lie dripping into each’s mouth,
squeeze stronger than your hands can,
disappear with me for that moment,
afflict each with rebounding misadventure,
fluid flow through us both.

Sitting back metaphorical cigarette in hand,
reoccurred this place and feeling before,
this time recognising our bond,
struggle to loosen in finger trap tight,
accepting something more to this plight,
discover what wrought wounds in invisible ink.

Never had a backseat memory with you,
No nostalgic leap to american adolescence,
You know I always would, desert star skies we never shared
The only notch left to make is to connect far off,
Darkly splendid catacombs call to the Seine’s banks,
A million dead to take you trans-continent,
Bring you something you never had
Would you let me guide, places I went before?
Could you ever let it be a joy,
Rather say you are doing it for me?
Said you never thought of it,
Despite so many times we spoke.
I know romance doesn’t wear my face
For someone who likes back up security
I must be a lowest last resort.
Held by others during earthquakes,
Would you touch for turbulent hours up high?
A chill in recycled air, stiff seats, lay on me.

A cliche thrown out last night, ‘she has grown on me’,
passive receptive of this botanical feat,
corpse like feat feeding future flora inside,
probing subtle roots talking of painful past now fixed,
covering around my shielded fig exterior,
barrier formed to a life I lived,
the soft leafy bed to keep from the cold ground,
holds in place as thorns slowly sprout,
fruit incomparable sweet flavor,
must navigate an acee poison trip wire,
a japanese blowfish of green,
expert mine defusal to render nurture locked inside,
fused and grown cannot live without,
oblivious I replaced its soil source,
happy to feed what I can.