The Poetry Marathon

Go Straight Ahead, Don’t Look Back Now

Cross.
Courage is all it takes to cross a bridge to go somewhere new.
And leave everything else behind from where you are.
Take it slowly.
One step at a time.
That will be the start of your journey,
Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

Walk.
Perseverance is all it takes to continue walking that bridge.
No matter what situation you’re in.
Whether in the midst of scorching hot sunny day or thunderstorms.
Take it boldly.
With each step, give your heart out.
Just continue and you’ll understand and see,
What your journey is all about.

Stop.
Strength is all it takes to stop for a while and rest.
Don’t worry, it’s okay.
You’re just stopping for a while,
You won’t pause your whole life.
Because sometimes, in order for you to go another mile,
You need to go to your refuge to be able to strive.

Burn.
Bravery is all it takes to burn bridges that you don’t need anymore.
You have to have the guts to leave things behind,
Especially if it will just give your heart and mind a heavy load.
Sometimes, it’s better to give up a few things,
That weighs too much on our packs.
And when we have finally decided what to set aside and what to bring,
Stand up, heads up, walk on. And no more looking back.

Stream of Consciousness

Looking at the long wooden boardwalk
threading through a wooded wetlands
takes me back to the fjords of Gros Morne.

Newfoundland, with its sparse inhabitants,
confounded us with its odd houses without stairs
to a front door high above the ground.

In Twenty-Nine Palms, we were perplexed
with the eery abandoned homestead houses
scattered in the high desert.

Now, the nearby Joshua trees, my totem plants,
are dying and
will be empty shells soon enough.

5 pm

shimmering sunlight

casts shadows between green leaves.

butterflies darting

among mauve clusters;

vernal season emerging

from grey wintertide.

Rules of the Foodie Universe

 

A thirty four dollar steak will

Always taste better than a twelve dollar steak,

But

A twenty nine dollar Restaurant Week steak will

Always taste better than a thirty four dollar steak.

 

A baked potato on fine china will

Always taste better than a baked potato on a paper plate,

But

Corn chips will

Always taste the same on china or paper.

 

A fine red Rhone blend will

Always taste better in a glass,

But,

No buts about it. It doesn’t belong in plastic or paper.

Always pour it in a Riedel or Spiegelau, if possible.

 

 

By Sue Storts

08/13/2016

The Road I’ve Taken

Robert Frost wrote about the Road NOT Taken
I won a first place reading it in a high school speech contest
It is still one of my favorites.
NOW..I will write about the ROAD I’ve TAKEN

************************************************

My sins piled up high as a mountain
You said You’ve forgiven them all
I was like the Samaritan Woman…
so ashamed and feeling small

You told her about Living Water
You said it would quench her thirst
You gave her a new path to follow
to take her away from the Worst

I, too, was searching for answers
when the road to recovery appeared
in the midst of the valley of heartache
I was rescued from what I had feared

You led me beside streams of water
I laid down in the pastures of green
I gained strength to climb the mountains
for a view I had never seen

What a wonder is Your Creation
even I am “Fearfully, Wonderfully made”
and since You’ve been walking with me
I do not need to be afraid

wherever the path does take me
I will never again be alone
You Are the Great Shepherd of lost sheep
Thank you Lord…for You call me Your Own

You exist in here

Every time I remembered us,

I gazed up and was lost in the memories,

when I saw, through our vivid photograph, us cuddle together across the glass panel window,

trying hard to transfer heat because heater had broke down,

over some cookies, hot drink and late night gossip,

and admiring the architecture, design and nature.

O’ how I admired and will always salute your bravery,

for stealing your parents gazebo during delivery,

and installed them at our backyard,

only to find us ———- of mockery and jokes

each time your family all gather together.

That magical night when we were strolling by Feringghi’s beach,

alone with you ———- with little money,

I rant about hunger and tiredness,

you would keep quiet and listen to everything,

and finally fall asleep together

until a foreigner came closer to ask for direction, the very next day’s morning.

Summer

---

Summer is nice but really hot,

Whatever you drink does not hit the spot.

The temperature rises but the body does not want

to move from the cool air that it taunts.

From a window it looks so refreshing and then

the door opens and hot air enters again.

Once summer is over a new season calls,

it is my favorite, the season of Fall!

SCRO 2 pm

Keepin’ on keepin’ on. Ninth panel:

Hour 9: Wind-Up Doll

I feel the cold brass
the key
as it stabs me in the back
it chills me to the core
it sends shivers up my spine
as it winds
the tension builds
it builds
it builds
Let me go!
it builds

I feel the cold wind
the rush
as it slaps me in the face
it chills me to the bone
it puts pimples on my skin
as I spin
the dance repeats
repeats
repeats
Let me die!
it repeats

I feel the cold night
the dark
as it blinds me in both eyes
it chills me to my soul
it sends tremors toe to crown
as I wind down
and down
and down
Don’t leave me!
I wind down

9 // [they said that she was cold]

they said that she was cold
that it was impossible
for someone to feel so little

but she had never felt enough —
that night she conducted so much heat
she burned everything she touched