Muscles tense The precipice of motion. Feeling the energy press Potential begging to become kinetic. The desire to move, to rise, to jump, to fall. Hold it in, how much longer. Live in the moment, then let it give way.
Category: Marathon Poem
Poem #12: Torn Lovers
I’ll behave in the setting sun, When you’re not around the chambered room, And maybe this is what life is supposed to be? People running carelessly through other’s hearts, Never knowing how to keep anything together, We rummage through drawers and fall apart, The sunken…
Hour Twelve. In motion
The planets move like in a ballet. Like seeds in the sky tethered together. You would think they were light as a feather, but it is the weight of the world that thrusts us onward. Like the weight of our hearts weaves us together, So…
Velocity
To which we move, slowly, leaning and yearning for a taste of something, how we cannot resist. It is so wrong to want, so wrong to ache and yet I cannot resist your gravity, your pull to me is dragging, I am not lagging, I…
The Healer
She is asking for your best loaf of bread as she beats you. She smiles as she walks away with all of your bread. Later, you thank her.
Speaks Your Silence (Hour Twelve)
Where did you go? All those times I called for you, And there was no reply, You were right in the room, Holding your tongue. It felt cruel, And I began to feel The waning of my love, Like the dying of a flashlight. No…
Old Red Truck
It is funny how much you can accumulate living in one place. Trunks full of books, pictures, poems, stories, most hard to replace. 2500 miles away, an apartment waits. Big Red wasn’t so big, but would try to do what was needed. So, pile in…
I Bid This Marathon Farewell
I’m sorry to say, I move on from this marathon. I signed up for all twenty four hours, but I’m finding it to be hard. I have my three kids and everyone knows they come first. For the rest of the night, they will be…
Moving On – Poem for Hour 12
The only thing certain about life Is that nothing remains the same, Everything will change, People will come and go, Hearts and souls Will be rearranged, As time and tide wait for no man And you pack all your worldly goods into a removal van….
(Hour 12) 9.30-10.30am — #10 “[PM]’s Den/Downing Street”
Limericks are (supposedly) not limericks unless they are obscene, ergo, not one for the contemplated collection of children’s verse. I like limericks (at least today) cos this one has earned me a 40 minute break! #10 There once was a man from Number 10 Downing…