The Poetry Marathon

Dreaming of Death

Stepping onto the old wooden steps,

I feel as though I have seen this place before.

Where have I been for the past several years?

I have to keep moving.

 

Stepping onto the old wooden boat,

I feel as though I have been at this place before.

Where have I smelled this before?

I start to paddle.

 

Paddling deeper into the ocean,

I feel as though these waves are too familiar.

Where have I felt their push before?

I look ahead, and start to take out my fishing pole.

 

I realize my actions,

They have all happened before.

I have seen this image a thousand times in my dreams.

I have felt the stillness of the pole while I waited for my dinner to show.

I always woke up after this part.

 

Woke up in the middle of nowhere,

Woke up to the chaotic life of mine,

Woke up to the daily work load of mine,

Woke up to the unfulfilled dreams of mine.

 

But today I finally slept long enough to watch the first catch of my life.

I finally felt the rush of a flapping creature pulling my fishing pole.

 

It’s gasping for air,

I mean water.

I can’t breathe.

What did I just do?

I can’t breathe!

 

It’s wide eyes are staring right at mine.

It’s lips are open and it’s still flopping around.

I can’t breathe!

I mean,

The fish!

It can’t breathe!

 

My hands,

Violently shaking in fear.

I let it go.

It falls in and swims away.

I jump into the ocean with it.

 

But I can’t swim.

I am not even trying to move.

I sink down.

 

And I just keep sinking.

 

I can feel the pressure of the heavy water pushing me down,

Deeper and deeper.

 

I can’t breathe,

My vision is slowly fading,

I can feel the intensity of the saltwater fill my lungs.

 

I wake up now.

Wanting to sink to the bottom of the ocean once again.

 

 

The Heroes Have Fallen

King Arthur and his bride
We’re happy side by side
They knew true joy
They couldn’t be happier if they tried
At least, that is what the people thought

Deep down, both were torn
Arthur the king and warrior worn
Guinevere would displease him
Arthur wanted to trust her each morn
But he was uncomfortable with her company

And so she fell in lust
With a knight Arthur had put trust
This knight was the mighty Lancelot
Performing deeds that would make Arthur’s heart bust
Because deep down he loved her more than country

The traitorous Lancelot revealed his deed
And Camelot became in need
His sins created the fall
But Arthur did not make him bleed
He offered forgiveness for this atrocity

The two lovers were now insane
How can the king in his brain
Even offer them another chance
Both deep down would desired to be slain
But instead it was the king who died

The two remained as the table crumbles
And they could feel the heavenly rumbles
And so they fled to find the monetary
Nun and abbot, they left their stumbles
In exchange for the oath of righteousness

Eyes Fixed

Eyes fixed left and right

how will I sleep on?

Watching me, making rules

How my nights are long.

Hiding in my room

scared to even think,

Eyes all cast on me

they don’t even blink.

Eyes all fixed on me

scrutinizing all,

knowing what I do;

backed against the wall.

Eyes that look my way

How long will they stare?

Watching me, talking much

Some may even glare.

Prohibition

All our attempts at subterfuge had been in vain.
The governing bodies that be can
See right through the purpose of our ban.
We don’t care about safety at all,
But the dollar sign, black market’s call.
And now our despicable nature in sight plain.

*Eclipse by Stephenie Meyer

The Light of Tomorrow

As the night comes and the world lays its head down to rest

The mind begins to run and question

What will the world be like tomorrow

Will we walk like the others

Or will we make an imprint on a world that is at a constant change

Should we give up that which makes our day go on

What kind of world will I leave when the night comes and the world rests

Was my change the day before enough to make things happen

Or should I continue to change that which surrounds me

Will it make a difference if I stand and watch

Can I become like the others and stand by

Simply waiting for that which was promised

On a day long ago when the world had just begun

And then again the night approaches and the light goes away

The world goes to sleep and the silence is all that exists

The stars far above lighting up the blackened sky

And we sleep resting and waiting for that next tomorrow

In hopes that we can change that which surrounds us

Let the world know that we are ready for the tomorrow

 

Wasted Years

The years of waste, and tears of haste, I struggle on to keep the pace. Where are my friends? I thought they cared, to hear from one has been quite rare. Looking back at wasted years, they hurt so much I drown in tears. With crushed dreams here, and chances lost, mistakes I made at such a cost. Reduced to watch what people have, I cry and wish for what I had. Worse than I thought, perhaps it’s so, caught up in time that moved so slow. Crushed heart, alone in its drought, who understands how strong is my doubt? With pain of regret, of all the failed tests, I still must stay strong to face what comes next.

I Hope I’m Not That Tree

I wait for your text.

After hours we don’t do much.

I see you,

You see me,

We don’t talk openly,

Be honest…

I know that I don’t.

 

The soft moonlight hits us as we walk past the old tree stump.

The tree was cut down because it was causing a wreckage with its long heavy branches during stormy days.

The tree was too much of a burden…

 

I feel like I’m that tree.

I feel like if I speak to you I am that tree.

I feel like if I try to get to know you I am that tree.

I feel like if I ask you about your dreams I am that tree.

I feel like if I try to help you I am that tree.

 

I feel like my heavy branches keep pushing you away.

Just like the homes that were broken during the storm.

 

I’m a burden that should be cut down,

Rejected for asking you about your life.

 

I feel like you’re ashamed of yourself.

I feel like you need someone’s help.

I feel like you are a lost soul who just needs some guidance.

I feel like you are an amazing piece of work.

I feel like you are someone who deserves to live more than the aimed amount of years that you told me about.

 

I feel like…

I am fantasizing what we have,

Again.

Hour Twenty Four

Sleep, dead on arrival. Dreams,
missing in action. Growing out
of my pineal gland, my spirit
reaching up for a starlight ballet;
finding only the soft pillow kiss
of midnight moon clouds.

Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

what do you sense?

What have you read?

Am I intense?

Here day to day

where things hardly change

Ready to write

And it’s all the same.

 

Dear Diary

my faithful good book,

where secrets are kept

and nobody looks.

When loneliness hits

I grab my good pen

to share all my thoughts;

my book you’re my friend.

 

Dear Diary

what can I say?

When life doesn’t change,

you never complain.

With you I can cry

for you’d never judge

And if I laugh

you won’t hold a grudge.

 

 

 

Hour Twenty Three

Riding up my fantasies, a pitch black
flame, twisting and scorching my hope.
I’m holding the lighter and the fuel
but for some reason I want to see it burn.
I want the dreams I longed for to go up
in smoke, and their ashes to form a nice
coffin for my wishes to rot in. Doubt can
sever mobility; make me a quadriplegic.