The Poetry Marathon

My Return: Angela Theresa Egic

I enjoyed the Poetry Marathon back in 2016 … so, despite being behind on a lot of things; joining the Facebook group until today! I seem to have registered in time.

I am many things … A Renaissance Woman. Published Author & poet in the 2016 Marathon book! Also a Produced Playwright. You can see my acting work under my stage name, Angela Theresa Collins. I am also a Psychic/Medium and Teacher of Law of Attraction, Psychic/Medium Training, Angelology and Photographer.

See ya’ all soon!

Post Modern Prayer

Faithless, we need to kneel, driven to the floor.
Giving thanks to those who daily knead bread,
Put roofs on houses, and make wayfarers’ beds,
Nurse the sick, teach kids, and mind the store.

We need to sing praises for the Earth’s bounty,
While mindful of an ever-sacred trust we share
Conserving the land in each town and county,
Earthly treasures that we need dare not impair.

We need to meditate upon what Nature proclaims
Like snowflakes each of us is different, yet the same,
For we inhale the same air, put food in our bellies,
And family togetherness and solitude we all claim.

We need to serve our less fortunate neighbors,
Protect the weak, the young, the old, the poor,
Ensure that workers can rest from their labors.
Comfort the dying, giving them hope to endure.

We need permission to laugh a lot when we’re happy,
Cry when we’re sad and occasionally act a little mad.
Love like we mean it, long-time acquaintances befriend.
Ever mindful that our time on Earth must one day end.

New 2019 marathoner

I work in an office all day, making maps, but I love words. I’ve been writing haiku the last year and decided to try the marathon as a way to challenge myself to write more poems and in other formats. I think the 24 hour aspect will make it more interesting, since lack of sleep tends to make me a little loopy, and perhaps more creative as a result. I’m so looking forward to this!

A Poetic Boast

It’s more than just a little exaggeration
That my poetic verse fits every occasion.
But then, I’m older than Appalachia‘s hills,
A Shakespeare’s genetic clone in my skills,
Noblest of scholarly poets, so it’s a shame,
I’m just a Who’s Who removed from fame.
With thoughts that are deep as the ocean,
I’ve have declared my heart-felt devotion,
For when writing every metric discourse
I engage in a tad of hyperbole, of course.

Test Post!!

Testing to make sure I can post to site. 10 hours to go. And counting down. Whoop whoop!!

testing 123…

checking that I know (remember) how to post things…

Harvey

Earth, Air, Fire, and Water

More than organic
With liquids, gases, organisms,
and minerals does mix.

Mostly nitrogen,
Twenty percent oxygen,
A pinch CO2 and argon.

Oxygen, heat, and fuel
Does make a big chain reaction.
In air does it flare.

A little hydrogen
combines with some oxygen
To douse the flame above.

Hello Again

I’m married now, twenty-two

My cats are a pair, a handful too.

It’s my third time coming, hopefully not my last

It’s been a while since poetry past

Hope I’m not too late, I’m sure you’ll all do great.

A Heaven’s Child

Wriggled your escape from my hugs,
Squirmed away disgusted, to wet kisses on your rosy cheeks,
Tiny palms, frantically wiping as you sprinted to the sink,
Always came back drenched, face, hair and dress,
My aqua princess of hygiene, stood proud and satisfied,
I laughed hysterically to your portrayal of mad.

Cradling a peaceful you in my arms, this instant,
An unfamiliar silence, piercing into my ears,
Why aren’t you fussing to be let loose?
Tiny pearls of tears on your clean face,
Why aren’t you wiping them off your cheeks?
Wash them off, get all wet, get really mad,
Open your eyes princess, flaunt those big brown eyes,
There is so much more to live for in this life,
You look very much alive, it hurts to accept otherwise,

I wish to turn back time and kiss you a million times, never to let go,
I want more of you, desperate for help but all heads are down today,
The Lord took you away from me, not granting my wish,
5 minutes late on that fated day ended up with a lifeless you,
How could I forgive myself? I wasn’t there to save you,
But why must it be you?
Why my little baby girl?
Selfish thoughts taunting me closer to insanity.

My hands feel cuffed, unable to lay you down on your resting bed,
You look every bit of an innocent child of mine,
But underneath all that make up, lies fresh bruises and wounds,
Indescribable pain and agonising sequenced of events,
A sad story that will always remain a secret, you take to the grave,
Brutality forced onto a helpless child, who hugged her teddy to sleep,
Animals in human form, heartless murderers, I want them dead,
You RAPED my little girl! Wrote the final chapter of her story,
Named it fate and slapped it hard onto my face.
Your own fate awaits your arrival and good always prevails.

My sweet little princess,
Heaven welcomes your arrival today my dear,
You will be safe, no one can hurt you no more,
Daddy will miss you dearly, sweetheart,
I wipe my tears off my baby’s beautiful face,
Gave her one last kiss on her rosy cheek.

 

Ode to a Certain Duchess

 

A girl certainly must kiss a lot of frogs
To land a wealthy Englishman, a prince
To innumerable soirees she must trapse
To find a trifle peculating recompense.
So come evening, did Ms. Markle stray
At SoHo House, ghosting celebs away.
Dining on avocado toast and tomatoes.
Searching  a source of bespoke clothes.
So she could buy that Burberry raincoat,
Jimmy Choo shoes, and Givenchy gowns
And, of course, would she choose to gloat
Looking for fun with a girl in London town.
Found  he who could float a yacht girl’s boat.
Though twice wed, was past the sell-by date.
As jars thrown away from the pantry shelf,
For conceiving children would be too late.
Now, it’s a mystery why this fatal attraction.
Is driving daily tabloid readers to distraction.
When she ‘s likely to receive Henry’s elbow
But then  she’s yet to receive HMS’s memo.