The night is young and so are we, Grasping at blanket and sheets that used to bring comfort, Now simply annoyances blocking my way To you
Category: Marathon Poem
This is How She Found Us – Hour 1
Only yesterday we were orphans. Disconnected names on a tree of barren branches. Only empty limbs within reach. Arms too short, fingers too ignorant to find their way up to the lap she once offered, soft bread baked with love, the warm blanket of home…
The gift of Amnesia
If only I had amnesia, so I could erase the feelings, the ones that remind me, of how uneasy I was to love, the ones that bring me back, to moments of neglect, all those times you said you’d be there, but you never came,…
Hours 2 – Surpassing the Odds, Passed by the Odd
Record heat bounces off canyon walls stiffling my breath as I climb Breathless athletes pass driven by unseen inspiration to overcome, do, prove Legs pushing against pedals trying, but failing to reach the pinnacle Tutu’d cyclists pass and wave as I shamefully walk up the…
Hour 2: A Decade Ago
Ten years ago, I still looked at the world As a scary place, full of fearful surprises. Ten years ago, I saw the world With eyes that yearned to find some light. Ten years ago, I began to believe That there was goodness around If…
Behind Closed Doors
cw: abuse coached in metaphor, similar body horror to the previous poem Behind close doors, it comes out – all those things you never show to anyone but the canary, turned useless from a lack of voice. After all, nobody would believe it, and it’s…
Paradise
Soft sunday morning Tasting her coffee kisses Lost in paradise
Hour 2, Poem 2
Something lost, something found Oh well, that’s life.. Why was it not just last year that I found a job But lost all time Found stability But lost spontaneity Found a niche But lost warmth of home Found acceptance But lost individuality Found a way…
two: Which Tree
The tree has no idea Who parked underneath it What birds perched on top Which ones violated the car parked underneath it The tree doesn’t know who left the empty burger wrapper on the curb, Why the cracked concrete had to be replaced and repaired…
#1 inspired by Robert Frost The Road Not taken
I took the one less traveled because it’s always new. Every day opportunities vary making excitement ensue. What I saw yesterday is gone and different today. The path still there calling me to explore.