The Poetry Marathon

HR 1 – Text Prompt

Write a poem about something ending. It could be a relationship, a stage in life, or the apocalypse. The details are up to you.

 

The End

I read tarot cards, goosebumps, and the subtle shift in your eyes.
I am a contortionist of compromise,
folding my needs into palatable, paper thin morsels
that melt in your mouth.

By the time your lightening strikes,
I’ll be miles away. I won’t be hit in the same place twice.

The patterns of your behavior create thick grooves in our relationship –
it doesn’t take a palm reader to understand your priorities.

The end will surprise you.
I started preparing for it
when you stopped pretending to love me.

 

 

Prompt 1/An Ending

We had a good run
You and I
That would be true
if not for all the lies
I remember staying up and praying
holding myself at night
Wading through the darkness
Try to find the light

My head was a mess
and you broke me down
My days were dark
I could see no way out
Your words cut deep
And I was left to drown
My self esteem crumbling
Searching for the ground

Now all that is gone
I am happy to say
I clawed myself out
it was the only way
Learning to love me
I hold my head up high
I take it as a lesson
the nightmare of you and I

Friendship

Friendship Poem 1

 

Friendship of seven years -shadows

How awesome this felt when I- beckon

Lasting walks in the park with -me

She felt like she was in love with -i

 

Never give up on a friendship you- want

The clouds in the sky in earnest -to

Sleepless nights of feelings I -turn

Wings of nature on a brick wall -away

 

Bricks a barrier to my emotions -but

The sunshine I collect on my way -they

The window never opens I -whisper

The dead tree reminds me of -my

 

Name – @Sabinah Adewole

26/06/2021

 

Poem 1 -Golden shovel poem

Credit to Mike Wilson Haiku

Shadows beckon me

I want to turn away, but

They whisper my name

Graduations —Hour One

You will always be my baby girl;
I sit in the audience and watch
you walk Proudly
across the stage;
Towards the fifth grade diploma
That now sets you apart from the little ones;
Your hands reach for the certificate
Your shy smile but proud
No longer a husky
No more Pleasant Hill
Onwards to a coyote and many years to come:
And this reminds me of an ending of a beginning;
Kindergarten
Your yellow baby chick hair
Held back by your favorite headband;
You know, the one with the tropical flower?
You wore your cupcake sprinkled dress;
Your blonde hair like mine as we lean towards each other
And our crowns touch;
You have since grown, My Little Miracle;
Pink hair yesterday
Blue hair today
There will be a time for the big graduation
That high school diploma,
The first key on the ring to open many doors to come;
And I always wonder if on graduation night if you’ll
Ask for Twinkle Star
That night, as I embrace you and hold you tight.

Slumber Done – hour 1

My sleep is done

this ain’t no fun

am I the only one

who hates the morning?

 

My body says no

to work I won’t go

a few snoozes, tho

will it really help?

 

But this poem here

is ringing in my ear

this Saturday, I fear

i can’t sleep in.

 

Still in my bed

such a sleepy head

I should have instead

hit the pillow sooner!

 

I make excuses

but Dr. Seuss’s

mindset sluices

in and out of my brain.

 

This poem is done

bring on the sun

coffee is on

wake up, this girl is ready!

 

-Sandra Johnson, 6/26/21

 

No more, Doctor, No more! | Surya T | Poetry Marathon Poem 1

Another season starts soon
your last before you regenerate
you escaping death to survive
a gamble on what you’ll end up with

Not again, Doctor, Not again
My heart is not strong enough
To say goodbye to you once more
I don’t think I can see you die

You can do so much more
Be more than what you were
Helping me cope with reality
Escaping in your Time-Space machine

You haven’t lived long enough
yet you filled my whole life with adventure
Please don’t go, Doctor, please,
It’s not time for that yet

In times of despair and darkness
I turn to you for solace and comfort
now, it’s your time to go
and I feel abandoned, lost, and lonely

Why must you go, doctor?
Why can’t you stay here with me?
We can go on adventures together
roam the entire universe

Play with the space dust on Alpha Centauri
work on the fields of Gallifrey
setup a base for safety of Earth
watch the evolution of humankind

We can do so much more, doctor
So much more
But this is what we get
And it’s not fair

We can do so much more, doctor
Yet our time is limited
I can’t do this anymore, Doctor
Please, don’t go, Doctor!

-Surya T

Am I Entertained?

It wasn’t the way I had it imagined, 

my Death. 

I had pictured something grandiose, 

Instead, white walls and a steady hum filled the room. 

It was empty, 

just one living soul. 

I have never enjoyed poems with short lines, 

but here I am, 

writing my eulogy, with nothing coming to mind. 

They remember the good things; family man, loved animals, 

you get the drill. 

it’s not an accurate reflection of life, or how he cut himself with a knife. 

Too real? 

Too bad. 

I chose this way of life, 

or death. 

My death. 

All rather boring, really. 

Prompt 1- Farewell

Farewells are never fair
To be honest why did we create such a word?

If it death, that certainly isn’t a fair way to whisper heartfelt goodbyes

If it by force, how fair is that?
My dear friend must return to a place where her dreams and aspirations may fall flat

I wish not to tell her farewell, I wish not to tell her I’ll see her again
So you see, it’s nothing fair in farewell
Sending my love until we meet again.

Hour 1 – Limitless

What if we could stop the clock? Or
divert those ominously marching hands
down a rabbit hole spiral of clock faces,
let them eat away at an infinite mobius strip,
an ouroboros-esque monster,
while we continued to live
unafraid. Existing only adjacent
to the now-pointless continuation
of hours and days.

If we could build an end to time,
just to circumvent The Ends
time would otherwise deliver,
what meaning would be left?
What purpose in our endeavors,
in how we spend our metered seconds,
if there are no earthly limits
to impress their importance?
What delight in the fleeting foxglove,
what wonder in early years of life,
both lived and witnessed?

The power of a moment
relies on its brevity;
on the promise that another instant
will replace the old with novelty.
Without time’s Ends, its Beginnings
would also be lost.

We love because one day we won’t,
due to their absence or our own.
We cannot stop or slow the clock,
our age progresses ever forward—
never deviating from its steady advance.

ending

there was a fraying
like the veins of a tomato plant
never offered a skeleton of support
falling over
into the dirt
ready to be wrapped
in a death shroud

seeds never to meet their resurrection
pulled and tossed into the garbage instead
during the shadows of night
no moon
ending swoon

but one
single
persistent
seed
floating on the breath of God
cloaked in those same violet shadows
snuggles up in the muck
is never shucked
but buries herself in for the fall
for the winter
for the spring
a garden quilt to tuck her in

waking, shaking off that quilt
as the garden begins April baking
stretching toward something new
and a gardener
with a frame all ready,
oh, this volunteer tomato seed of resilience
beginning

there will be fraying again
but this time
instead of collapse
support;
the natural course of things
for beauty and tomato thrive
when the gardener knows a thing or two about
endings
survived