The Poetry Marathon

Good Morning Catfish

Good morning catfish

I hope that you slept well

I’ve come to see you

At the pond where you dwell

 

I brought you some breakfast

It ain’t no biscuits, nor any eggs and bacon

But it is a whole buffet

I’m sure you’ll find something worth takin’

 

I’ve got a cup of red wigglers

And stinkbait and a fistful of nightcrawlers too

I’ve also got some chicken livers

And a rainbow of lures, surely one of these will do

 

I’m gonna send it all down to you

On a hook one cast at a time

So you can eat it all up

Right in your bed of mud and slime

Growing Up

I am
          a man.
          a boy.
          a person.

I am
          a writer,
          designer,
          saxophone player.

I am
          the one who argues about ethics.
          the one who knows too much about mathematics.
          the one who appears arrogant despite low self-esteem.

I am
          a twenty-one year old who has no idea what he is doing.
          halfway to feeling like an adult, but already acting like one.
          unsure of myself, my intentions, or my own mind.

I am
          growing up.

2019 Poetry Marathon Hour 1 (Prompt: Use the phrase “I Am” at least 6 times.)

I Am enough
I Am stronger than most people think
I Am a good person, no matter what you’ve heard
I Am beautiful, just as I am
I Am whole, inside and out
I Am who I Am, your approval is not necessary

(Book 99, #19327)

One

I found the moon
at the cemetery
this morning
I teared up
watching two mourning doves search for their breakfast
I wanted so much
to help them
for reasons
I can not explain
They appeared lost
Seeking
But
Perhaps I only need to help myself
Perhaps I’m the seeker
Still
I was grateful for their company
Both for myself
And my father buried
In the earth

No title yet

Damn, i let my emotions get the best me
I let it fill my mind with unrealistic possibilities
My emotions got to my heart
Now i feel it breaking again
I cant breathe damn I should of known better
Was i blind and not paying attention to the signs
Did i read into he’s messages more than I should have
I feel so confused was it me that misunderstood
Or was it his words the contradict himself
I swear i thought i heard him clearly
But those words he spoke to me
Got me feeling like Damn girl am I trippin
I know i let him talk so i could listening
To make sure i heard him clearly
But dang i guess i didn’t read between the line
Or maybe he already had my heart to point I was blind
Blind to truth i knew was true but had high hope he will realize his truth and let go of the past
To see what we have is real and true
Maybe that’s was his truth and I’m heartbroken because now I have to accept my truth
Let what we have just be
And decide is this where I want to be

Nest

Crumbling bones of salt cannot hold the demons at bay any longer

Their liquid limbs lap at my skull and my ribs

My head crumbles open and they burrow into my brain,

Piping their bodies into my consciousness.

 

My body is being rebuilt,

bone by titanium bone,

Scar tissue wrapping my flesh,

Until I am impenetrable.

 

My body is a nest for the darker things in life,

But do not be mistaken,

For the light still shines through my eyes.

New Day

New Day

After long hours

Underneath the soft moonlight

A good morning starts

(Haiku, hour 1@Mejia2019)

A Life is

 

To look to the sky and beyond

To likened myself to its end

Finding solace in its meaning

So, I can justify the interval of life echoes

Pondering why and how of things

Reasonability of known course of humanity

What life may contain in its epoch

Pointing into the direction of life chapters

Seeing and listening in the life challenges

Seeing beyond the test of time

Life is what may seem but it does not

Wondering and pondering in its easement of understanding

Still it is new pavement of living quartets in a song

Life echoes immensely

 

Prompt # 1 Hour # 01

9:00 PM PHT 22/06/2019

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tug of War

A white light shines on me
Its fluorescence harsh, unyielding
Like a thousand tiny needles stabbing their points into my pupils
The room is a tomb
With clicks and taps
Breaking its sanctity

Clawed fingers grapple at the keys
Rambling, pausing, rambling again
Uncaring of the destination
Till one or the other gives in
Is this deranged
Or just the signs of a healthy relationship

Abstract Poetry

words

on a page

without

rhyme or rhythm

searching

for a metaphor

luring the reader

in