The Poetry Marathon

Inside out, upside down

My heart bleeds,

I can feel the blood running down my torso,

between my breast like a waterfall of warm liquid.

But I pull,

 I pull even harder.

I can feel my pain,

my crushing, self destructive pain

But I ignore it

And still I pull my heart out,

and watch it

where I threw it

still throbbing in the mud of yesterday’s torrential rain,

my heart still pulsating,

bleeding in the mud

and all that blood

covers the memories of yesterday’s storm

And then I see today

my heart,

I feel my empty shell

doubled over in pain

and I kneel down to retrieve my heart

before the herd of dogs

suddenly stands there with teeth bared

And I want my heart back,

my life,

my hope ,

my future.

Existence momentum of a being

 

Endless thoughts lingering in the hole of center

Universe speaking in the tightness of time

Lingering in the front and center

Of things surprisingly sometime

 

Wishful thoughts emanating to an existence

Writing the innermost thoughts in the face value

Indeed working in the core  persistence

Looking at it as its par value

 

Longing after time space effect

The causal factors reflecting on notion

Listing on the motion confect

Anew time everlasting motion

 

A state of mind exhausting known possibilities

A future within written in past hooked sensibilities

 

 

© Roy Mark Azanza Corrales 06082017  3:10   AM PST

Hour 6- Verses that bind

Thoughts crisis-crossing my brain
jumping in and out
like a happy or gloomy dolphin
I know not what
as they don’t wait long
for me to judge.

So let me start
I was happy to realize
my biggest weakness
yes it’s the lack of willingness
and merrier to discover
it’s just an end result
of my discipline and patience
so u see
where do I have to start

here in my cocoon
that I keep changing every year
alternating my room in
every year or two
I am mostly figuring out
how hours pass into days
sooner to months
with friendship day today
and the clock striking 12
I find solace in the FB posts of my
friends partying enjoying
with no messages in my notification.
for me to realize, it’s after all
just a Sunday.

Copyright © Snigdha

Poem 5

Dearest
Footprint
Your presence fills me with delight
Dearest
Footprint
There was a carriage
Passed this way
An hour ago
Headed to the pike
It did not have an engine
And it did not have a sight
Every ticket was bought
Out of some complex fraud
Dearest footprint
It was unsettling to see
The phantom-filled carriage
Whose charges were made
Whose names were taken
Whose identities
Passed over the dales
With no gaggling seating arrangements
No admiring look, no apology,
No staring out the porthole
At the windrushes and harriers
Dearest footprint
And the one who planted you
So generously, thank you, the one
Who must have been happy for me
To make of you what I like
Before leaving for Toledo

Ivy Tendrils

Swaying lightly in the breeze,

hang her tendrils.

Ivy, green, they reach all the

way to the dusty, forest floor.

 

Her mighty oak branches,

dressed in mosses and ferns

are beautiful, no doubt, but

it’s her verdant hair that enamors me more.

 

 

 

 

Three Timed Stanzas

I. 60 Seconds
The neighbor’s circular saw
fills the humid summer afternoon
with the incessant sound
of buzzing

II. 90 Seconds
When we were children
we would put our swimsuits on
under our shorts and t-shirts
put a beach towel in a bag
ride our bikes the mile
through city streets
to the beach on the bay
lay slathered in baby oil
fell asleep in the sun
swam to cool our burning skin
rode home again when the
shadows told us
it was time for supper

III. 120 Seconds
We rode our bikes
to the candy store
bought penny candies
by the handful
carefully counted out
how many blackjacks and mary janes
and butterscotch disks
we could afford
while the old man watched
from behind the counter
never once smiling
never once telling us thanks
for our business
as if having penny candies was
somehow beneath him
yet it was his shop
his orders every month
that kept us coming back
again and again and again
to count our pennies
in the candy aisle.

[Prompt 6]

Expectations

Today’s space age tech,
Is still not quite as cool as
How they imagined.

Hour 2

“And with these words

I will create an immortal spine.”

 

I abandoned all hope for the prompts. I am just not in it today. Guess I will stick to my #instapoetry style and start cranking them out.

Homeless

 

Walking the streets day and night

Begging for food

Searching for job

Looking for shelter

 

I wondered

Who am I?

Where is my place?

To sleep tonight!

 

(Hour Seven – Maritza M. Mejia)

The Fox

There are two souls that reside in my heart.

One is the good, the man with a love for everyone.

It’s the hero, the one who believes that good triumphs.

The one who’d go to the ends of the earth for a happy ending.

The side of me that almost everyone can see.

 

Then there is another. He is just as much me as the first,

But still he stays hidden for fear of what may come out.

When I sleep, he moves my tongue in strange words and phrases.

He lays in my mind, tempting me to stray from safety.

It would all be so easy. Just one step and you’ll be happier.

 

This is the fox. He is cunning and manipulative.

Seeking sensuality in every form, so that he can indulge

In the physicality of nature. He is not evil, no.

Never does he wish harm on anyone.

But no one believes that.

And why should they?