The Poetry Marathon

High above the six feet of chain link fences that separate our 13by16 square footage of various weeds we called grass

Almost as tall as the branches of the old sap tree we loved to dangle from

Only then. with the air propelling my imagination did I dare to soar.   Freedom belongs to the birds I thought as my braids swayed in the breeze   my sister twirling beneath my feet eagerly awaiting her turn Mommy watched from the kitchen window

Daddy gave us the world with one simple rope,a wooden slate and my first push

Was it the sound of drums
that tuned my heartbeat
to the music of the song?

Was it the sound of drums
that caused my feet to move
and follow the magic of flow?

Was it the sound of drums
that drowned the grief
that threatened to swallow me whole?

Was it the sound of drums
that suppressed my voice
and challenged me to be strong?

Was it the sound of drums
that distracted me from my goals
and dissuaded me from hearing my inner voice?

Seeing the smile on my face
Can you tell how much pain is in my heart
Seeing the shining eyes
Can you count the endless tears i shed
Seeing me talking to everyone
Can you tell how afraid i am in starting a conversation
Seeing me with some one
Can you tell the number of times i was alone
The number of times i blamed myself
For being me, for loving, for caring,
For understanding someone I shouldn’t have
Can you figure all that out just by my changed self???

she breathed fires, when she’s confronted

And her voracious devil mouth,

Is fuming with venom.

Don’t get close to her or you’ll end up redburnt and blistered skin.

Nothing can stop her, she’s all knowing and always end up the winner.

In every arguments she’s into,

She’s very loquacious and her hyperbolic words hurts.

Instantaneously, Red Dragon girl has passed,

A victim of mental illness.

A social maladies that our society need to address but, to her family, a sacred secret.

Evolve

And change

What awaits

You cannot know

Until

You unzipped

my spine

and crawled

inside before it closed,

trapping you inside.

You fondled your way

through, your muted

screams without echo

off my ribs as I consumed

you bit by bit.

You used my spine

as a ladder to escape,

the damage too much

to take as you straddled

my aorta: thump, thump, thumping.

Each beat a rhythm,

a musical song

to which both hands

grasped,

slipped,

mocked

the blood

at your elbows

as I breathed

my last breath.

I whisper words onto paper
Under a conjured name.

It’s delicious, the magic of it;
Me, but not myself
Mine, but not my own.

I drink in the murmured approvals
Uttered in keystrokes
Sent, ephemeral and
Equally anon.

It’s addictive, the potion;
Fiction, yet reality
Fantasy, yet the truest of my truth.

I’ve whispered words onto paper
Under a conjured name
And now I wonder
If I’ll
remember
my
own.

When you can’t silence your mind

its hard to be at peace

you can have peaceful moments

but never silent

In Life there is no hiding place

which is probably why

I live majority of mine indoors

When I’m by myself

I tend to breathe better

and when I’m alone

I don’t need a hiding place

Beads, long hair, bell bottoms

so colorful I glowed in the dark.

Rebellion at every turn,

searching for I knew not what.

All I knew was that I was not

my father, nor older brother.

I loved them for sure,

I was cut from a different cloth,

So my mother said. But I was

rushing too fast into the future,

To hear or understand their

warnings and comments.

Throw into the mix a recent

failed marriage, and alcohol and drugs.

I did it all, tried it all, but the only thing

I brought forward from those

Troubled days were a well-abused body

And my love for the music of the era.

Looking back I wonder how I survived?

However, here I am, feeling every bit

of those days.