The Poetry Marathon

An undertaking of a bard

“.. In low pursuit , know , prudent, cautious, self-coutrol is the Wisdom Root.”

A Bard’s Epitaph by Robert Burns

 

Worthy causes always in low pursuit

Always keeps one to know

Using much times of person’s   prudent

Sitting in the life being cautious

Withstanding in all of self-coutrol

Redeeming in the life of  Wisdom

Taking ways and means for the root

Life escapades written down

For life familiar times

Escribing in the  age of bards’ reminder

 

 

 

© Roy Mark Azanza Corrales 06082017  4:10   AM PST

 

In the midst of the heat of summer, the

In the midst of the heat of summer, the

first fleeting impressions after the long

august rains, feel like the first sobs

of the end of our love story, the end of

the summer season, the

beginning of the practise of violins

Taking us straight to the first notes of the Christmas Oratorio of

Bach and on that Christmas morn we know already of the coming autumn.

A Man’s Worth

What is the worth of a man,

and how does one reckon his value?

There was a time when the gods would judge.

Heimdale would give report,

Odin would see.

Thor fought beside, weighing valor.

 

But the gods are dead.

All wisdom is gone from the world.

In their great grief, they rent their worlds asunder.

Asgard is no more.

Ragnarok tore their lives away.

Yet, not in vain were the deeds of the gods.

Though they perished,

Midgard was saved.

Their pain bought us life.

Their blood spared us their fate.

 

What is the value of a man,

and how does one reckon his worth?

 

Measure him against the gods.

Though he fall short,

there is no greater prize

than to die as they did,

a willing sacrifice.

Bad Dream

So here I am again.
Sad. What’s new?
My dreams are rarely wrong.
And I had one of those dreams last night.
Where the girl in the dream should have been me.
But she wasn’t.

Then he came into my dream. He met someone. And he was so incredibly happy. He updated his status. Changed his music. Changed his profile pic. And all I could do was wish that girl was me. I woke up sad and empty.

A feeling I haven’t had in a long long while.

It’s pointless bring unhappy over something I can’t control. Why give someone else control over my happiness. That’s not on. Only I have that right. Giving someone else control over my happiness is giving them control over my life.

So what if I had a dream. So what if my dream isn’t wrong. I guess at the end of the day everyone deserves to be happy. And mine is taking that much longer. Because when it happens – I will only spend my time enjoying that happiness.

Nap Time

2 PM Nap Time

Resting in peace as the world swims around in violent pulsation

She knows not, other than her perception

Which is restful peace and restoration

Others outward bound in belief

look on to superficial relief

While she who comes from within

Comfortable in her own skin

Relaxed despite the worldly din.

 

Could we all be so transformed, changed?

Few realize her demeanor

She is wrapped in fur

Four legs possessed and four fangs arranged

Within her silent relaxation

There is no vexation.

 

Memory Like Train Tracks

I’ve held on to you

sometimes only in dreams.

Once you rode a child’s train

that travelled in repeated circles.

Every time you passed me,

you forgot me a little more.

 

I faded away from your mind.

I was afraid that this

would happen in real life.

When I saw you after

four and a half years apart,

we hugged and you pressed

my head to your heart.

 

The tracks of a train

couldn’t diminish

the impressions I made.

A Sonnet of Me

You asked for me to write a song of me
And, humble, I could never think to be
So bold, so arrogant – if even true;
But this is me, and of me, just for you:

I am a soulful one, depths fathomless
To most, currents lost in my soul’s progress;
And, losing most in wand’ring through my life,
I find myself alone, sometimes in strife.

And so, seeking to find a better way,
Farther from culture’s rules, I oft do stray.
I gain more satisfaction, still, than peers;
Tend to stir, unwittingly, human fears

And find myself at odds with consuetude,
Exam’ning life’s and love’s true magnitude –
My mind and heart swelling with all I’ve found:
That love and life and beauty yet abound

When willing parties but dismiss affray,
When expectations we dispel today,
When we let live and grow our hearts’ true bliss,
When we dispense the fear of two souls’ kiss.

You asked for me to write a song of me;
And song I write, a soulful wish to free
My heart, my mind from cloistered walls of time,
Released into romantic seas, sublime!

I love with all my heart and mind, it’s true;
A paradox of love: Many, and you –
Always my heart and soul munificent,
Though I find yet a mind’s predicament:

For, how is one to prove a love is true
When love is shared by many, not by two?
When love is bound by only truth and trust?
When love is love, and lust is merely lust?

A poet’s words can fail when love is lost;
A lover’s words can fail, if you accost
Her alimony, disrespect her way;
So, put aside all fear, let love allay

An uninhib’ted life; let love be free:
I’ve found this truth to be most sensibly
The depth at which I founded my own life;
The base of me: With love, my soul is rife.

Daring Greatly

Love inchoate:
Longing and lust and loneliness
Hoping to be allowed the time to
Coalesce
Into something beautiful.
And all that hope
Balancing on the tip of your tongue
As you weigh your options.
As you prepare your response.

Hour 8

I decided to use Fog by Carl Sandburg. Here is the poem if you want to read the full version. I chose the line “on silent haunches” so this is a very short poem. I think it could have been a little better but I am still pleased with it.

Cat

Black fur walks on

Small paws silent

Before resting on haunches

Poem 8

Where were you when I needed you?
When I called your name for hours,
When I knew you would be the only one to under stand,
When I only wanted you,
Where were you?