The Poetry Marathon

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

Tidal

I want to stroke

Your hair

And feel the sigh

Of you

That breaks into me.

You are bigger

Than me,

But I hold you

In my arms

Like a monsoon

I’ve captured.

 

I am

Poseidon.

 

I can handle

Your waves.

Two Rivers

Two Rivers
Wend their way
One gentle, one

Rapid
I shiver
Vacillating between
Events or home
Rapid or gentle
Save confined or ..

Quandary – 1 of 24

all I can say is that
cruelty was leaking out of you
but I had no empty buckets
within arms’ reach so I
had to swallow all of it
mouth agape, taking in
hundreds of ounces of
such loathsome stuff
turning myself inside out
to scrub at intervals
hoping I could sleep
underneath your ceiling
without it caving in
waking up with
polystyrene between my teeth
your mistake was believing
that I was the one
making the mess
simply because I could not
house all of it
you were spitting so much
contempt
and I met my body’s limits
so by Sunday, I was swollen
with your nonsense and
I had to purge my hope
to make room for it.

My Autumn

She watches the wind

chase the grass

Listens to the birds

tweet about the day

Her eyes grow so big

her ears go side to side

Her belly grows so wide

she wobbles along

No longer able to pounce

just waits to be served

She’s still so sweet

my pregnant kitty

Shade

Shadows and light dance in winged flight

across the tapestry of every mind in sight

different every view

i couldn’t begin to fathom what’s in your heart and so why try to understand your mind?

Walk under ladders, step on the cracks  Sidestepping wont bring you anywhere but back…

What are you trying to hide?