The Poetry Marathon

I Long For

My mind has not been a haven for me for the longest,
Had the lights out and learnt that the human mind,
It can be its own horror story.
I continue to fuel the fire to my mental purgatory.
Be welcomed by Sadness,
Hook-up with Heartbreak,
And sleep with Regret.
And fight over Joy with Anger.
Repeat this cycle over and over like the playlist you play,
When someone breaks you.

My mind has not been a paradise for me,
It has been the breeding ground for doubt and a home for my demons.
Dressed as friends after I failed to throw them out,
So they agreed to let me stay since they were willing to share their home.
But every night after playing keep-away with my dreams I lose a part of myself,
I find myself lost in it every night,
When the calls are ended, the lights are off,
And my thoughts are turned on.

I wish I could find myself in my own home,
But this house I called home is anything but.
I wish I could evict all the terrors and finally return,
So I stop pitching tents in the hearts of people that are overbooked as it is,
With people that come for their hearts but stay for their souls.
So their heartstrings intertwine and their souls tie.
So I can stop wandering the lonely streets at night even though they are filled with people.
Stop spending nights on the streets with people that call them home.
Because I can never settle for someone who cannot stay in the same place for a long time.
I want peace, serenity, and consistency.

To stop having to close my eyes to see the girl of my dreams,
Imagining perfect in a place so chaotic,
Because it makes me fall for the damaged thinking my damaged nature can create a whole.
Let my eyes see the truth in reality and stop breaking itself in imagination,
And open my eyes and search for her,
So I know if dreams come true and know,
Whether my heart or mind has influenced my taste in women.

But I have taken depression out of my life equation,
But anger, sadness, and loneliness still equal mood swings,
And I still fail to control those.
They divide my lifespan,
Add on to my life’s problems,
And subtract more people from my life,
As they multiply in my mind.
I long for joy, not happiness.
Because happiness is temporary and I have to rely on people,
For people to give me my scheduled fix of happiness.

I have waged war on my demons for too long,
Tried to make them acquaintances,
But my head cannot house a halo as it grows a pair of horns.
I search for purpose as I remove my toxicity from my being,
Eradicate my flaws by accepting them,
And seeing them as perfect,
Because, I need to clear my mind and start afresh,
Clear out the old couple pictures,
Leave my aspirations.
And unlock all the doors.
I long to be free,
I long to be me.

Hour 21, Prompt 21 – Black Matter

I want you to understand 

that my calculated dances

of pleasantry and avoidance

are part of my survival

 

Yes, I want to play and laugh

but not here because someone

with a burning hatred in their heart

might mistake my smile for bared teeth

 

No, I do not always have it in me to care

when the air is sucked out of the room 

and there is none left for me to breathe

so I can speak as the protagonist for once

 

I want to heal–to forgive and forget

without tearing of parts of myself

crumpling them between my own hands

and throwing them in the river

 

More than anything I want to move on

and find a way to ground into this place

and I want to know beyond all doubt 

that while I walk this earth my black life matters

ENCLOSED. Prompt 21 Hour 21

ENCLOSED.

Tired I am from my daily dose
Of sitting at home and eating away
Watching the ocean only in films
And listening to the birds’ sing song

I miss walking out in the street so late
Along the way, collecting books
Smiling at those I can’t buy
Thinking to come back for them

Crossing paths with others in shops
Running late and hurrying around
Is what I miss, sitting here
Longing for the normal days of the past

Dressing up was fun indeed
Now I’d do anything to go out free
Unmasked and without any fears
Exploring life the best I can

The Finish Line (hour 21, prompt 21)

 

The night’s dragging on forever
And yet time is flying by
Dripping poetry in our wake
As we pen words with a sigh
24 poems in 24 hours
A creative’s crazy dream
Push your talent to its limit
Like a seamstress’ outer seam
Now 21 hours in
I can see the finish line
It’s been fun, it’s been real
And soon sleep will be mine.
~Mandy Kocsis©2020~

Prompt- what are you longing for most right now #9

what am I longing for most right now?
to finish these final four poems
not just finish, but end up with some good ones
I would’ve said great but I’m not at that level yet

I am proud because I was feeling stuck
and getting tired I just wanted sleep so bad
but here I sit trudging along
even when my fiancee wants me to come to bed

nope your libido can wait on me this time
this is something for me
I will finish my poems on time
sorry must throw it in at this point, haha

Fire #12

You loved playing with fire
As a kid you burnt up all the candles
We always ran out of matchboxes
And Pappa was not pleased

Some lonely nights I’d scream
When my fears would ignite
Take over the house of thoughts
And the flames would rise high
You would come along with damp eye
And put out the fires in my mind
The ones I kept starting
And did not know how to control
They burnt my hands and heart
And I would hold onto your warmth
Fall asleep with you on guard
Protecting me from the cold world outside.

Your ashes are in the tin can
I’m holding close as the curtains blaze
I started this fire like you sometimes did
The house can fall, I need the warmth.

Prompt 21, Hour 21 – No Need

Aggressive wants spoil the simple pleasures;

Beckon reason, to see the needs are met:

All else is details for selfish raptures;

And the simpler souls do have their joys set.

 

A bright morning, with pen and ink supplied –

What else, could I command for my pleasure?

Fine company and health does well provide.

There is also food, and good mood for measure.

 

Sweet rest, is golden after long labor,

So these next few hours I will savor.

 

 

 

 

 

Bed of Poppies

Mother Night and Father Darkness had a son
Hypnos, the god of sleep
I dreamt of him often
living in the caves near river Lethe

Squid Ink sensuous moves
eyes black as pitch
whispers like satin wings
tenderly pouring his rich opium elixir
down my eagerly parted lips

A little sip
sweet rich velvet
all my cares forgotten
surrounded by lush blooming poppies
cradled in ebony
I would surely sleep
deep dark drowning
sleep

Lighting Out

A touch light, gentle, a voice,

the open road, the two of us

going far North with the summer and snow,

far as the wind could take us.

Hour 21 (2020)

release from the clutches of consciousness

into slumber:

the glistening black void that rests the body

that ends constant tire and dishevelement.

When the words no longer have to fall clumsily on to the monitor

but can flow freely beyond meaning and recognition