The Poetry Marathon

Lies (Haiku)

Breath in once again.
The words are hollow and full
Of Lies. Let them go.

Dear Future Soul (2019 Poem 19)

In reply to Letter From The Future Poem 11

Dear future me aged forty-nine
Perhaps it’s time to drink some wine
I think I know just what to do
First thing on the list, ignoring you

Got this living life thing figured out
I can do anything, I have no doubt
Cute and shy, but I am smart
I won’t lose the truth that’s in my heart

Save your messages for those in need
I’ll find what I want with all due speed
Though I don’t know yet what I’ll be
It will be great, just wait and see

When Comes Old? inspired from J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot

I grow old…I grow old…

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Yes, I grow old…But have I grown cold?

I can hear my voice speaking words, uncontrolled.

I do not want to grow old, sad and crabby;

Lord, grow me in your grace, that keeps one happy.

Even though my end may be in full sight,

Still, let me find my joy in this world’s delight.

Let me see my blessings for what they really are,

Not critical of issues both of near and of far.

Help me see the little things that brighten up the day–

The sunrise; the sunset, and fluffy clouds at play.

Let me hear the sound of my children laughing,

And let me still enjoy an afternoon of napping.

Fill me with a spirit of joy found deep within

That hangs on to happiness; not fickle like the wind.

Yes, I grow old…Yes, I grow old…

I will wear a smile as my story unfolds.

Feel Better

Feeling better now that I checked up on it

I will feel better once I get updated on it

Feel better about yourself

When you feel nothing at all

And if you fall get back up

Feel better that you took that step

Feel better now that you made that decision

Feel better that you’re here

Because you are here for a reason

Feel better because you are special

There was no mistake in making you

I am working to feel better

And I hope you feel better too

 

Copyright © 2019 by Angelica Stevenson

All Rights Reserved

Tomorrow never dies

It lives on as an existential temptation, a veritable itch you dare not scratch.

The fear of the unknown permeates deeper than you’ll ever understand.

It offers nothing in the way of absolution; it just feeds on your own

insecurities and transgressions. Yet it offers a way out, a glittering

spark of hope for those who can see beyond their own self-doubt

and narrow scope of existence. It’s always in sight and yet it

remains unreachable through all its notoriety.

Worship what you can’t see and let me

know where that takes you. Ambivalence

will only get you so far.

Last Dance

Last dance (Let us go then, you and I; Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot)

Let us go then, you and I,

Where slender legs meet the floor

And you teach me and I teach you

The dance that elves know

Among the chattering crowd

Who passes a hoot or two

The feast is laid before the guests

With two empty seats

Waiting for us since eternity

We can see but cannot touch

As our bodies are long gone

And only our spirits remain

Let us fulfill the one last wish

And dance…

Where no one will watch us further

Our spirits will melt into each other

 

Hour 20

@varenyas

Night

(from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot)

 

Let us go then, you and I

when the evening is spread out against the sky,

let us listen to the symphony of frogs

and the rustling song of leaves upon the trees.

Let us revel in the starry Milky Way,

and kneel in dewy grass upon our knees.

 

Let our glad hearts rejoice at this sweet world,

at fragrant flowers, trailing vines, and touch

with reverent fingers the crimson roses, but not too much.

 

And let us sit and swing a little while

under the moon’s glad glowing light.

And when the evening starts to chill,

we’ll go inside,

and keep in our hearts

the treasure of this night.

 

Jetlagged Ramblings (Hour 16)

Chasing the sunrise,
Timelapse lost, hurled into the future,
Half a day away, spinning around
a turning world,
I’ve come to inherit dreams,
swelling mythology,
indulge in food and fantasy.

Adventure in every unknown minute,
in every glancing eye and stranger met
lies the happenstance of impossibility.
Encounters never meant to be,
connections laid bare,
vulnerable to exotic temptation,
I celebrate the strange parade
of exalting human indulgence.

Dear Dawn (2019 Poem 18)

Why have you arrived at this late hour
Did you hit the snooze on your alarm too many times
I’ve been working since you went to bed
We have much to do, nothing else need be said

I’ve finally realized I have the power
Now is the time to bring to life our vision board
We’ve wasted time on hopes and dreams
Turns out none of it was what it seems

Please Don’t Speak of Love