The Poetry Marathon

I tiptoe across

night, and broken syllables

I am a poem thief.

We need. Inside.

If hurt, we hide.

We need real love.

Fits like a glove.

We need deep sleep.

Not Li’l Bo Peep.

We need our brains.

(I hope it rains!)

We need more time

for this bad rhyme…

I came to a fork in the road,

I even almost ran over a huge toad.

I paused and pondered as I waited for the gigantic toad to pass.

Which road will lead me there quicker?

The road well-known was heavily travelled.

On the other hand the road not taken was just that- not taken.

I hastily made my choice and set upon my way.

I regret it till this day.

I really should have went the other way.

I came in the back of the line, always Last;

They thought they were going the right way, only I came Home.

I will see them again before long, in our final Grave–

We will shake hands and take our kiss from Death.

Because after all, we did what we meant to in Life,

We came in through nothingness and again were Born.

In us every galaxy of the cosmos was Born,

the light from those pulsars will always Last,

even after our eyes rot away in Death.

it’s not that bad at all, the shelter of a Grave,

Always searching for a place to rest, and finally finding Home.

A struggle no longer at the end of Life.

Wickedness absolved and sins sanctified through Life.

when angels and demons crept onto our shoulders to be Born.

as if the light from heaven would peak through the clouds at Last,

we eagerly await the gentle grace of transient Death.

Jesus holds my hand walking me to the Grave;

I’ll follow no one, because only I know my way to my Home.

In between my eyes, deep in my mind, that is where I find Home.

Pity be all those lost and searching never finding True Life,

Samsara will wrap them back around, another chance to be Born.

And from that first, hopefully timeless breath to last

A thousand lives met in a single moment at Death.

Laying beside every manifestation of Life, a universal Grave;

We’ll climb our way, as spirits, from the Grave.

ascend a ladder of lightning to find Home,

and when our fate is gone, we’ll finally be at peace at Last,

but the relief will be fleeting, because it is our nature to be Born,

to suffer through Life,

and savor the release of Death.

Do you long for the kiss of Death?

To dive into your forgotten Grave,

So you may finally know the warmth of Home,

Be rid of your aching Life.

and maybe take on a new form once you’ve been Born.

Can you remember the life you lived Last?

Or is this the Last time you will welcome Death?

Find your Spirit-Home beyond your Grave,

and if you never take Life for granted, you will be Born.

As the clock strikes midnight my mind is on something beautiful
Away in the city she is who I long to be with this night
We don’t need any words or to speak just us together touching
It is as if the only language we have is our love
As my eyes grow weary and my heart is full I feel drunk

But in all honesty it is a foolish truth or maybe this insomnia
Curse this forsaken burden that now cast upon me. Oh insomnia!
Words muddled and lines are blurred it is almost beautiful
Trying to convey these thoughts or feelings of my love
Can I be any more frank or do my words any less touching
I can’t think straight but all I feel is the warmth of night
Just listen to me and hear me speak for am confused as a drunk

A fool am I to think that my wakefulness is clear, not drunk
Again I curse and swear and scream and blame my insomnia
Missing the sights the sounds the things that are beautiful
Are you thinking less of me amongst the confusion my love?
Because at this very moment I rather be with you hands touching
Let the sounds of the city play the lullaby of the night

 
And that’s what this is a man in love up at night
Pretending to be far from a truth and creatively drunk
I shouldn’t curse it or blame my companion insomnia
Since I writing words as an attempt to say what is beautiful
It is like the waltz of the stars and the moon in love
Spread out across the sky like a painting, how touching

And then my heart feels it again the long of us touching
Underneath your sheets as we listen against the night
Your eyes are closed and against me you lay. So beautiful
I am still awake and I don’t blame it anymore on the insomnia
A sharp noise wakes you but it’s just a drunk
I don’t want to be anywhere else by here beside the one I love

You talking in your sleep roll over and kiss the man you love
And I smile back run my fingers through your hair touching
The hours keep going by and I don’t want the end of this night
I understand now what the singers say it is to be love drunk
And I try to sleep but I cannot, as I cannot rid this insomnia
Yet, I am at peace with the moment that I find so beautiful

You are beautiful you are my love
Let’s spend this night touching
I am not drunk and I am lying about the insomnia

Unassuming children for truth they reach

Starched pants and pleated shirts staring eyes wide

Pilgrims all pew perched in high holy pride

Eager innocence seeking what men preach

Following along with the rhythmic stride

Narrating illustrated thoughts to each

Selective scriptures for the soul to ride

Contradictions that confuse what men teach

How the altar of disappointment brings

Naive babes to be fed the truth that cries

Animated parables pulling strings

Fooling all who would be honest and wise

Enamored by the dancing shiny things

Until they all crave the taste of men’s lies

by Karen Sullivan

Form: Petrarchan Sonnet

Taking form of chaos,

the outcome is peace,

seems like a wrench thrown in reality.

Taking form of chaos,

water into wine,

weddings always blow the mind.

Taking form of chaos,

walking on water,

crowded boats are a bother.

Taking form of chaos,

Red sea split in two,

right on time they after you.

Taking form of chaos,

guy’s been dead for days,

not even at work I get a raise.

Taking form of chaos,

death, hell and the grave,

the only perfect one came just to save.

Delusion

Our reflection,a misleading fantasy,

True acceptance of ourselves,betray.

Face the truth,go out of your comfort zone,

Stop daydreaming before you’ll get drown.

Arrrrghhh this was a tough one. Ended up creating a so-so poem using a range of pick n mix candy/sweet names.

#26

fruit sours
& an apple drops
as the flying saucer
sherbets overhead
skittles warheads
toxic waste
atomic fireballs
liquorice ropes
with a sour
rainbow twist

#1.  First one of the lot 🙂