Rain is falling Rain is flowing like a river Rain is beating on the roof It sounds so serene Rain is beautiful Nature it is Cloudy and dark Rain takes a toll On the flowers and trees Rain winds blow Giving that feel.
Category: Marathon Poem
The 6th hour
In this thing like flint Doing me like she did last week putting in work cant stop me now
Not today
For all the people that have their own agendas for me and what I do with my time today Please under no circumstances assume that I will agree to follow suit The thing is I don’t want to Atleast not today Today is my day…
Exemption
RULES DON’T APPLY TO ME I m the teflon poet. they do not stick. I do as I please so there! The rules don’t apply to me. We need bad boys in poetry and I am a STINKER Putting 7 syllables in the iambic pentameter…
Hour 5 – An Virtual Casualty
Prompt for Hour Five My internet is a strange beast A superior intelligence designed to provoke and harass With the ability to sense urgency and despair it waits to pounce.. Signal Disconnected My internet is a weapon of mass desolation People in black suits are beginning to show…
HOUR 6
FOREST DEMON If he’s warped, then so am I. I feel his madness deep within my cold heart. He screams, thinking no one hears him, no one can help him, but I hear him. Over and over again, the same awful screech, the same complaint. Can…
Tempest
I am alone in a sea of people. Laughter and voices lap at my body like waves of foam that surround me in all directions, bursting onto my consciousness that is already dripping and soaked in isolation. Flooded with emotions, the sea overwhelms me, making…
The End of Worry
Hours spent sleepless at 3 am Usually 3 am Sometimes 3:33 – a scary time One in which the ghosts come out! Demons infiltrate my every thought Whipping me to shreds with their anguish Over my imperfections What needs to be done Did I do…
Poem Six ~ In Death Valley
The truck broke down outside of town. Without gas, without energy, he waits in the metal sheet bed. Sweat brims on his neck, making his shirt sticky. The sun is brutal, but he knows that it will get dark soon, and with dusk comes relief….
the best #6
the best marrying the garden gnome at his widest he weighed almost twenty two stones with long hair knitted into his fluffy white beard is this the best you can do? her plucky old mother cried what’s to become of you with this…