The Poetry Marathon

Recipe for Time by Mrs. J hour 2

Ingredient # 1:faith

Ingredient# 2:knowledge

Ingredient #3:understanding

Ingredient # 4: patience

Ingredient # 5: doubt

Faith is the substance of things hoped for but evidence not seen

knowledge is known facts, skills or information

understanding is the ability to understand something or comprehend and is another word for wisdom in understanding in knowing how to use the knowledge you gain

patience is the capability to accept delays, troubles, sufferings

doubt is a feeling of uncertainty or lack of conviction

In this large world where time is very consuming which can result in you easily getting lost or losing focus on where you’re going in life you can combine 2 equal amounts or 2 full cups of the knowledge and understanding together. This knowledge can be gained through reading scriptures out of The Word of God or newspapers, magazines, or any other source that holds valuable, healthy information. You can pray for understanding (wisdom) any time or day about what you see, feel or experiencing if it happen to be alittle or much confusing to you.

Then as you whisk those two together start stirring in about half a cup of faith and a full cup of patience which can heated up on high in your life. You will need these two ingredients along with what you already know to help sustain you on this solid foundation or build up a base as there may be some delays, sufferings, troubles, or setbacks.

This is where doubt may come in causing fear and uncertainty about what you believe or who you believe in but beat or throw it out and pour in some more faith until you only have a smooth combination of knowledge, understanding, and patience helping you to continue to move forward in a positive, clear manner.

You can continue to repeat this process with faith and you can even serve it along with any toppings such as family, friends, spouse, etc to help you make this one of a kind recipe of time! Enjoy cold or hot!

 

Blessed Are the Thinkers

“I always knew I’d be preaching to the choir.”
John Lithgow

Firstborn daughter
of two preachers,
I was groomed to follow
the family tradition.

I sang on stage when I was three.
By four, I was picking out songs
on mama’s piano.
If only they hadn’t taught me
to be a critical thinker,
it might have happened,
I might have been an evangelist
like Mom and her sister, Bonnie.

I might have been a pastor,
like Dad.

Comfortable on stage,
a mighty voice,
lover of words,
but some of those stories
just didn’t make sense.

I’d ask questions,
and I wasn’t always comfortable with the answers.
I preferred logic to magic,
believed faith required proof.

I knew I was a disappointment,
the discordant voice in the family choir.

Even so, I think I followed their footsteps,
ministering
to students instead of parishioners,
preaching
the importance of thinking for oneself,

I want people to find heaven on earth,
to be accepted for who they are.

Kindness and love are holy enough for me.

Criticism Correct and Write

Criticism Correct and Write


“There is only one way to avoid criticism:
do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing.” Aristotle

“Words are on a page can no longer hurt you.” JR Turek

Write it out
Cry it out
Get it out
Bleed it out…
Just keep on writing,
overwrite so you can cut it out later.

It’s you baby to rewrite and rewrite again.
You’re writing and that’s all that matters.
Rejection means you’re still writing
and still submitting.
Remember words on a page
can no longer hurt you.
So come on,
keep on writing.

Margarette Wahl

Traveler

‘And then it was time to start uphill toward another morning and another home.’

I have never walked uphill toward morning
morning, to me is always on the downhill
the easy coast homeward after taking
full advantage of the solace of nighttime

Heading for home, from the darkness
sun on a new day’s start as another fades
even a bad night heading to another day
cannot dim what passes for reclamation

I am not Saul on the road to Damascus
there is no conversion, and while I claim
epiphany it is what I experience every time
I walk the night away like it was an old friend

Which it certainly can be claimed to be.
I am a friend of the night, no fear in me in
what lies in the darkness; I live in the light
frolic in the darkness, letting my soul loose

Around campfires, I was the one always
rolling his eyes at what passed for macabre –
tales told breathlessly, anxious young souls
wanting more – “And then? And then?!”

And as I start on the downward swing home
tailwind, momentum, gravity – take your pick –
pushing me onward it is home I always see there
just in front of me, at the bottom of whatever hill

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2020
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Morning Mercy

Flowing warmth

washes away

the things left undone –

a fresh start to the day.

 

I inhale the scents

rising up in the steam.

I give thanks for each day.

As I wash my soul clean.

Somewhere I’ve Never Been… 1/2 marathon poem #11

Somewhere I’ve Never Been…
1/2 marathon poem #11

I’ve never been to the Moon
But I’d like to
I’ve never left the Earth
But I would do
If I could

I’ve never seen an Earthrise
But I’d like to
Gaze upon the green and blue
But I would
If I could

I’ve never walked where Neil did
But I’d like to
And I like it more
If you came too.

(C) Scott Coe 2020

#12 Unrequited Love

Unlucky in love I’ve always been,
Invisible to all the women I’ve held dear,
But I’m a romantic – what can I do?
One day, I’ll surely meet my lover.

I may have even met her already,
I wonder if Susan is ‘The One’,
Or will Cupid fail me yet again,
The way he did with Sharon.

And Tara, and Sammy and Nicole.
Each time my heart had fluttered,
Each time I had had sleepless nights,
But each time ‘NO’ they had uttered.

But Susan, I feel, will look past my awkwardness,
She does smile at me after all,
Hopefully she’ll see my devotion, my loyalty,
And for once, someone will accept me being an oddball.

Today is the day I’ll finally do it,
Find courage to ask her on a date,
I’m positive she’ll say a ‘Yes’ to my request,
I’m sure she will realize I am her soulmate.

I grab a dozen lilies – her favourite,
And make my way towards her front door,
God I hope she says yes,
There are only so many bodies my little basement can store.

 

-Prachi S

2020 Hour 12: Last Stand

Here, in the last hour, I have no voice.

Before, I fought out my inadequacies

On this page,

Thorough and gut-spilling self-examination

Well-versed shots at my own heart

But this feels different.

 

Mediocrity has come for me

After a protracted pursuit.

I always wrote to defend myself, thinking,

If I surgically unearthed my soul

And put it on display,

The mediocrity would sigh

And retreat.

 

Instead, it is entrenched;

Having taken up a position on all my flanks

Not to attack but worse, to mute.

And my defense, my mighty pen against this sword,

Cowers.

And this repeats in my ear-

No one can stop you from being an unknown writer.

Season of the Virus

Season of the Virus

The ancestor rises again
In its atavistic moment
Blanket spreads the entire humanity
Before one could forment
Swaths of territory won
As we face our gravest reality

Hour 7

@varenyas

Congratulations One and All

Congratulations to all the Half Marathoners for finishing!  Bravo!

 

Pulling for you full Marathoners… You can do it!