The Poetry Marathon

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They wouldn’t notice

if the stars changed positions.

Constellations could shift,

Orion could go missing,

the Dippers could tip

and spill their contents

where Aquarius’s jug used to be.

Pisces could be devoured

by the Scorpio,

while the centaur fled,

and they still wouldn’t notice

until someone posted it.

I stepped out onto

the cool flagstone step..

The sun beat me

like an incessant drum.

Roasting the pavement

like the fires of Purgatory..

I looked before me,

I looked behind me,

I looked to my right,

I looked to my left.

The Ancient of Days

Who Is

yesterday

and today

and tomorrow…

tenderly gazed

through the flames…

waiting….

for every penny

to be accounted for.

Not as a stern judge

did He stand..

but, as a kind King

and as One Who

Waits.

Longingly.

He pines for His sheep..

to take them in His arms..

so they can rest forever.

For all the time spent in toil
I can’t but help to feel the spoil
Of body and mind and all my resolve
Yet here I stand, unbroken

When day light fades, I feel the shade
Cover my aching frame
I sigh in relief at days end
Yet here I stand, unbroken

Where is rest beyond the plight
Of unending days spent in toil
Of nights lost to pain and fitful sleep
And there I lay, unstirred

Upon cocks crow I rouse unrendered
To face the day, rest left untendered
Yesterday’s trial still within me
Yet here I stand, unbroken

Though I long for quieter days
And nights not spent in angst
The prospect of tomorrow biting my feet
And there I lay, unstirred

The value of what my body endures
Spoils not the value of my toil
It gives value I cannot enumerate
Yet here I stand, unbroken

Hand in hand, we walked.

The silence between interrupted by the shuffle and crunch of leaves. The icy waters threatened their power with rushes and white caps. The peaks ahead displayed their strength.

Surrounded by nature, we were but two in the whole vastness. Small, silent observers, aware of the beauty, the power, the mysterious savage mother.

Hand in hand, we walked. Silent in a world of stories.

If you stretch your neck,
Looking up and up and up,
You can just see the shell of sky
That cracks and dribbles
Against wall and window.

Gray skies, pale and vulnerable
Against the sun,
Tremble, a child’s wobbling jaw
Before the watery flood.

We stand down here,
Locked among walls,
Faces pressed against
Cool, industrial glass.
The doors have long since locked.
Our voices explode and bounce
But cannot reach up and beyond
The roofs.

Moths flutter down,
And sometimes a dragonfly.
But we are too heavy,
And they flee before we can ask.

I rose up

and walked

away

from what I knew:

my comfort zone,

familiarity,

knowing what I had,

knowing what I

would never have.

I built my walls

and my own comfort zone,

became familiar with myself.

I have been lonely,

I have been broken,

I have felt hopeless.

But I rose

up

from my own

ashes…

I am

a phoenix.

Eve Remillard

8/13/2016

Lead me the way

Looking beyond

What lies ahead

Conquering oneself

Be with nature

Always in touch

Moving innermost desire

Illuminating anew

New ways to grasp at

5:16 am PST 14/08/2016

© ROY MARK AZANZA CORRALES

It’s a long drop down,

(Is it long enough?)

And gravity would let me.

Wouldn’t ask if I was sure,

But would let me.

The gesture lives inside me

And I hunger for it,

For that tragic almost-flight.

Let me grow wings instead,

For I cannot leave the twisted aftermath

Of a wingless flight.

Where are we going

away from?

where does this lead?

we come too far

to turn back now

will we fail or

will we succeed

the road seems

pretty narrow

and the way

is even too

but there has

to be a detour

some bumps

carved out

of the road

for you

for me  its

all the distractions

the things that

my eyes are

attracting

hand in hand

we walk in the

quiet of the night

and the scene

creates magic

undertones

does this

path ever end

will we see

the place

where it

did begin

is it safe

to assume

that the journey

is full bloom

on this path

that we’ve chosen to

take, do we end up

near those mountains

or clear across the lake

is the sentiment

of being in the moment

real or is it something

we have to fake

for goodness sake

who cares where we

are going

as long as we

are going there

together

and since we are

going

did you by chance

check the weather.

I smell rain

FJ original 2016