The Poetry Marathon

Falling Away

How interesting to find
that your final rejection should
bring such relief…

black strands of needy fatness
falling away from me like rain;
with none of the resistance I expected.

How interesting to learn
that the knowing of you was my pain –
and not the loss I feared, after all.

Those words I had always dreaded:
“I don’t want you.”
were so splendid when they came,
that my world turned quietly sideways
and I caught the view of a love to be lived.

Forever freed from the immensity of your shadow
and the hurt you wheel squeakily behind it.

Marcena

Marcy is the best friend I have
My former friends to her, a halve

Love and Youth

Homing Pigeon

In the sudden snow storm, the blizzard that white washed the landscape, you guided us home by instinct. Noone could see where fields and ditches and streets connected, so thick was winter’s blanket. The flakes falling like feathers from heaven weighed down my lashes and asked me to stay where I was, but you would not impose. We had to go despite the snow in spite of the snow to spite the snow.

Slowly, you turned the wheel and applied the gas. Navigating by virtue of the memory of millions of previously safe passages along that path. Your mind maneuvered us many miles safely to our door without incident. You knew the way by heart.

Years later, you got lost in the setting sun while making that very drive. That was when we clipped your wings.

 

 

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Prose Poetry

Twenty…

By this music would I love you

gently

sweetly

slowly

(ever so slowly)

I would love you deliciously

fingertips on fire

eyes closed

lips parted

tempted by the taste of you

teasingly

then lovingly

sensuously

torturously

joyously

I would love you

love you

love you

love

you

Until the end of time

(and beyond)

You.

Your hand in Mine

With your hand in mine
we race together
back into time

a time where our love
lasted longer
where it grew a bit
slower
where we were able
to enjoy the sweet
nectar within

with your hand in mine
i revealed a side
only you could bear
to see
with my hand in yours
i found you
right where you needed
to be

with your hand in mine
we shared
our scars
our fears
our hopes
our dreams

with your hand in mine
i am here for you
and
your are there for me

with our hands clenched
into the spaces of
the other
we’ve learned
to find happiness
in the smallest
of places
exchanged between
each glance we’ve made
in the softest touches
of our kisses
in the silent “i love you’s”

with your hand in mine
together
we race back to that time

-Angelica Villarruel

Something Found

Hour Twenty

Listen to the song Your Hand in Mine by Explosions in the Sky, and write during it. If the song is up before your poem is finished, play it again. It is a good song to write to in part because it has no lyrics.
———————————————————————————————————————
Trekking through the snow and lights of
December’s magic hours— my heart turns
to look into the air, where glittering blackness
resides and time stops, that’s where I meant to be.
Parting words: Remember me as a time of day.
Remember me as a song for our fathers.
And when it’s time to great death,
lie in a bed, made of Yasmin the light.
Close your eyes and watch; the moon is down.
Have you passed through this night? In
through a poor man’s memory, lying still
with tired eyes, tired minds, and tired souls,
We slept

Resurrected, that first breath after coma,
finally, the only moment we were alone. I
would have lived there forever, but we only
had six days at the bottom of the ocean. So
for you these words are a memorial of your
hand in mine.

 

The last known surrounding of our love
could only be measured in human qualities.
We held weights and measures with trembling
hands—telling our monkey minds: be comfortable,
creature. And slipping away we’ll recover that
postcard from 1952. Please let me back into
that golden age of ignorance.

Breath of Life

all you see are shooting stars

in the midnight blue sky

 you close your eyes

feel a soft breeze running its fingers

and playing with your hair

for a while…

---

you are all alone, but feel at home

in the darkness;

then quite suddenly,

you hear the trees, the leaves are dancing

---

you stay in place

your turned up face

you breathe in

the delightful smell

of the rain that is coming

By: KMH 2015

Essentials

These things are dear to me
Honed over the years
The lips, the pen, and books to read
These things are dear to me
From now until the earth I leave
Each trek I take
These things are dear to me
Honed over the years