The Poetry Marathon

Hour 19

Blankets

Pillows

Comfort

My perfect space

Winging It

Well, from now on y’all I’m just winging it

and like the late great Muhammad Ali

I’m gone bee stinging it.

I’ll be shuffling, and dancing,

and dope roping, trying

to get through this marathon

straight 24ing it.

I can do this I know I can

not like the little engine

that could saying “I think i can”

so fight is in me like the fist of

Joe Louis I’m gonna knock

this one out. The time is

counting down but

I’m not giving out.

hopefully someone

will read my little rhyme

and give appreciation to those

who are now out of time.

They’ve inspired me.

 

 

Hour 19 – Stars

Stars 

 

The inky abyss punctured by light from eons away

Looked the same by all who came before

We watched together, drawing our stories in the sky

Until the time comes that we reach for them.

 

Now, the world looks to them with hope,

Praying that another like us is out there.

Though other planets await us,

There will always only be one night sky of Earth.

The day I met a Goblin

Hour 6

One fine day

I went for a walk

There came a dog

And began to bark

 

I cried for help

But no-one was there

Suddenly appeared a Goblin

Who came from nowhere

 

He was a small fellow

With a long long beard

He began to ask

Whose cry he has heard

 

He looked at the dog

And then looked at me

“Why are you bothering him,

He belongs to me”

 

His face turned red

And he waved his hand

Suddenly appeared a stick

Which looked like magic wand

 

It was no wand

That  I soon realised

He wipped me hard

Till I wept and cried

 

He was gone as he came

And my face was stained with tears

I used to dream of Goblins

But now they are my fears

 

Do you dear readers

Believe this story sad

Or do you by anyway

Think that I’ve gone mad

 

24 Hour Poetry Marathon Hour 19: A Tribute to William Wordsworth “Falling”

to you.

We met, loved, cared for, fought, hurt laughed cried but
Irreplaceable memories we etched
The happiness you lent me
That I hold debt
That can’t be returned completely

So let me cover you if it’s sunny,
Be your shade if it’s raining
And If you ever turn back time, lemme hold your hand like you held mine tightly.
To the cries make me a shoulder
With each smile, I am now witnessing you grow older
I may be weak but I promise I would shoulder you through every darkest day of your existence.
I’ll help you to heal yourself, Even if I can’t do it entirely.

Hour 18: Hello Anxiety, My Old Friend

You creep up on me on the strangest of times.
A casual remark in a random conversation.
A busy day at work.
A traffic jam on the highway.
And sometimes, you’re the first thing I feel when I wake up.

You started when I was a child.
At that time, I didn’t quite recognize you,
but my body did.
Teeth biting lips and nails,
legs twitching.
All parts of my body, on high alert,
pumping me with adrenalin,
till you would take your leave.

Now, I know the warning signs.
The clenching of my heart.
The shivers.
The short, shallow breaths.
And the immense strength it takes to move or speak or even think.

For when you visit, my mind is completely possessed.
You, anxiety, are the ghost of my mind.
Not by any means my best friend,
but certainly my oldest one.

3 AM – A Love Letter to Myself

Little man, be soft,

be tough–

be the feather bed and catch your loved ones

when they fall.

 

Little man, be soft,

be tough–

outstretch your hands

and wipe the dirt off someone else’s shirt.

 

Little man, be soft,

be tough–

use your words

and do good in this world.

 

Little man, be soft,

be tough–

shield the hearts of others

pierced by life’s many knives.

 

Little man, be soft,

be tough–

don’t go towards any light.

 

You are the light– and you are worth going towards.

Let the soft and tough ones find you.

 

Prompt for Hour Nineteen

Text prompt

Write a poem describing your surroundings as inarticulately as possible, but maintaining just a tiny bit of the truth.

Image prompt

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann

Unstable

Hour 17

Strip me of emotion

So I can do what must be done

Erase this internal commotion

By tomorrow I’ll have won

 

Kill my desires

Leave only duty and logic

Put out the fires

Then there’d be no need for magic

 

Clear my mind

The path is straight

Sweet distractions may find

My goals having to wait

 

What is passion if not fleeting

The ends don’t seem to be meeting

Death to my soul

Struggling to remain whole

 

Strip me of emotion

So I can do what must be done.