The Poetry Marathon

WORTHY

“Commitment to self is the longest commitment of all.”

Heres to the girl who no one can figure out
The girl that I don’t know
The girl who’s always higher
Than anyone in the room
The girl who’s in the pit
Where no one else can reach
The girl who makes bad choices
For the smartest reasons
And good choices for the dumbest
The girl who can’t make it out of bed
But spends every penny of herself
The girl who runs harder to run at all

Here’s to me. Because you’re worth it.

She’s worth it.

I am worth it.

11

Life is one continuous chain of ups and downs.

Casually linked to one another, like old acquaintances.

Life begins as a short, well~oiled, well~kept chain.

As one grows older, more links are added.

Making the chain longer and more cumbersome with each passing year.

It becomes harder to take care of, and gradually we lose control as it wraps around us.

Working it’s rusty joints into breaking apart and setting us free…

WHAT SHAKESPEARE SAID

The mystic counsel of the national

endocrinology society have declared

 

Poly

Cystic

Ovary

Syndrome

 

to be

 

Metabolic

Reproductive

Syndrome.

 

And so my celibate gaggle

of letters becomes a title

a position, almost a

degree to describe

the relation my life

is bound to this syndrome –

not disease.

 

The questions

the confusion

multiply exponentially

 

What’s it to you? I ask them.

 

What Shakespeare said.

hour nine

I wished I could walk
on the sky
slowly gliding
on its blue
without glass

there are many bridges
from where we could jump
and dive into the blue water
just like into the sky

Childhood Pet

Gina had a little dog

and Brownie was his name

Remember Mary’s lamb that went to school?

Well Brownie did the same

He wasn’t smart or good for tricks

And was quite past his prime

But he was there to pick her up each day

As though he knew the time

Gina had a little dog

and Brownie was his name

He lived each day being loving and loyal

Until his rest time came

HOLLYHOCKS

the prettiest flowers in our yard
grew in a row against the first shed;
light purples and long green stalks,
we kids would pick them and make
flower dolls with the Hollyhock skirts
adorning the delicate knobby head.

I’ve not been blessed to see a Hollyhock
since childhood, but I remember well
their unique foliage, tender flowering pods and
light smell.
Michellia D. Wilson 8/14/2016

hour eight

I could nou reach Carl Jung’s house by the lake
when in Zurich
I wished I could find him
and get closer to him

when in Zurich
I watched the swans floating on the lake and I hoped to find him
and get closer to him
and his symbols and archetypes

I watched the swans floating on the lake and I hoped to find him
I could not reach Carl Jung’s house by the lake
and his symbols and archetypes
I wished I could find him

#20 – Choices

I possess no answers
I carry only questions,
but not near many enough,
nor, any that are too close to the truth.

I will not lead
I am not a leader,
but I will walk a certain path
and you may choose
to turn right or left,
or, you may stay where you are,
or, come along with me.
However, returning is never an option.

We will talk along the way,
sharing ourselves,
or, those things that we can,
or, that we allow ourselves
Sometimes the truth
Sometimes not
Sometimes it won’t really matter,
it may be what we wish were true,
which is nearly the same

Others may join us.
Many. Though most, will not
Some of those may despise us,
or, wear the green shrouds of envy,
and we all will depart
before we understand why.

I will follow you, for a way, if you wish
If you understand life’s aloneness
and the need for each to find their way.
We swirl about in chaos,
thinking there is a way unknown to us
You know your direction
and I know my path leads somewhere else

Dear Santa Claus

Dear Santa Claus,

You selfish and outrageous capitalist.

You prey on hopes and dreams like

A leopard preys on the children whose

Dreams and hopes you’re built upon.

You fascist pig of a concept, deliverer

Of jealousy and anguish every year.

Every year someone gets killed and

Every year it’s because of your values

You teach children to be selfish

To be poor is a crime and to be

Rich is the only right way in your

Eyes which glow only due to your

Lies! Lies by which people lead

Their own insignificant lives! Who

Cares if they don’t have enough to

Eat, who cares if they are made of

Sins? Either way, the Santa Claus

Wins. You get more if you’re rich

Than if you are poor, rewarded for

No one’s actions save the slaves

In sweatshops and factories

While mom and dad sip

Glasses of black sherrys.

It’s your existence that

Perpetuates fear in a land

That is called ‘free’ or

Fright in a child no older

than three! And you have

Absolutely no shame do you?

Well I’m through with you

Sincerely,

The poor kid

21 // chromatography

go on and separate us
let’s see which parts of ourselves
are the same and let’s see

who moves the furthest
when they’re in pieces
on their own