The Poetry Marathon

HOUR ONE: THIS END

If ever there was a time, it is now

If ever a wandering, it was then

If I’d known the heft, I might not have set out

If I’d known that weight and weightlessness would contend

For a prime spot each dawn, wedged in my chest

For the headliner, once wrapped in the sheets

For the right to make a strange choice of dress

For the chance to give or to withhold sleep

So you ask me about the sorry end,

So you ask about this end

So you ask as the day fades, the light dims,

So I say the words again

I couldn’t get it right,

day after day, night after night,

We couldn’t get it right,

Year in, year out, crosshatching doubt

On Edge

I am on edge

waiting for something

to happen

filled with dread.

I question what festers

inside my head.

What could that be?

I am on edge

help me recall

what you have said.

So many things

I hurt inside

if I could remember

all the good

instead.

I am on edge

should I be

thankful I’m not

dead instead?

 

 

 

 

Hour One: Tea Party

Tea Party

 

Sipping slowly, smoothly sliding

slowly seeping, warmth colliding

’round the dark and sleepy morning

stretching, reaching, open yawning

smokey mist, rising air

no thought of international affair

or scandalous harbor party brewing

from lip of mug to lips of me

slowly, sleepily, drained of tea

 

And You Were There

The end is not forever

It is a pause

A momentary breath

A blink

A dimming of the lights

For the next act

And you

Were there

The last time the lights dimmed, my sight went black, and the air about me froze

You smiled

And that was when I knew

It was all for you

 

 

Hour 1: Marionette

 

Marionette, be merry!

I give the strings a yank

Awake!

Feel the strings control you

Feel them guide you

Feel them bind you

But smile, marionette

Be merry!

Dance a little jig

 

Stand up, marionette!

I’ll make you

You’re nothing but a toy

Feel the strings enfold you

Hold you

And as I lift you

Feel them hang you

 

But smile, marionette

Be merry!

Let us play pretend

 

Make yourself a liar

Choke!

Keep us entertained

Be everybody’s plaything

Chafe!

Give us pleasure for your pain

 

Marionette, be merry!

I give the strings a jerk

Alert!

Feel the strings instruct you

Feel them force you

Feel them stop you

But smile marionette

Be merry!

Do a pirouette

 

Fall down, marionette

I’ll let you

Your spine is but a twine

Feel the strings release you

Cease you

And as I drag you

Feel them stretch you

 

But smile, marionette

Be merry!

You’ll have roses at the end

Now that the End is Near

I don’t remember when it started, but somehow I’ve found myself here. I never knew I could do it, but I did it, and I no longer show fear. For all the countless hours of doubt hold no ground now that the end is near.

Lady Lannae

Too Soon – Prompt One

She is old
Ninety-three last Friday
Slow and not too steady on her feet
Moving quickly toward a finish line
In a race that’s sure to deplete
My soul.

She reaches for my hand
And I take it
Careful not to squeeze too tight
Wishing I was an expert
At hiding and taking flight
From what I know is soon to be.

She knows
I know
It won’t be long
This woman who always put me first
And stood so strong
No matter how dire the circumstance.

Sometimes when she doesn’t recognize me
My fragile feelings shatter
But knowing she always loves me
Makes nothing else important
Makes nothing else matter.

Until the end I’ll be by her side
Caring for her as best I can
After that, I don’t know where I’ll be
Without my mother to carry me
Through the darkness that’s sure to come.

The rapture

You flooded my mind, and set my soul on fire.

I should be drowning, but instead, I’m being taken higher.

To my cigarette, you were my lighter.

You were the umpire to my empire,

And therein lies the problem. Now here comes the rapture.

I thought you were my freedom but instead you were my captor.

Now here I lay captured, wrapped in your chains, but luckily now I’m headed towards free reign.

I cried and cried in the shower wishing for the storm to stop but now I gladly stand in and embrace the rain,

I’m completely unmasked and I let go of my feign.

I refuse to let your toxicity run through my veins.

You killed me but thankfully there’s a second coming,

That lines up with everything I was supposed to be becoming

One that’s filled with joy, peace and love,

The type that could only come from up above.

So now, I’ll sit back and enjoy the survival of the rapture,

Because at the end of it all… You were my beautiful disaster.

Phrase Florist 2016 Marathon Poem #1: Inspiration Comes

Inspiration Comes

In a touch, a glance, a tear, and a laugh, inspiration comes

In words, hugs, screams, and fights, inspiration comes.

Out of fear, frustration, joy and silence, inspiration comes.

Out of me, you, us and them, inspiration comes.

Hour 1

Found, End

Do I have endings?
I never leave things behind.

I still think about the guys,
that amorphous blob of boy-men.

the one’s I crushed on
the first kiss
the first fuck
the first soulmate
and the second

the one who didn’t know what No – meant

There it is

My heart stopped

he’s out there
shapeshifting

The end of trust
The beginning of Rage

If memories could sift into

Par

tic

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