The Poetry Marathon

Manifested Addiction

You marked me

With raven hair

Ruby lips

And death match glare

 

Marked me with.

Whom I should be

A love lost soulsoul

A broken seed

A power rich

And pure divine

While world leaves me

Hunted unkind

Promises made

And promises broke

I am what you hate

I am what you hope

 

Manifested addiction

I am I’m the flesh

And you hate me for it

With each escaped breath

You threaten to love

You threaten to kill

You threaten to life me

With what is your will

 

Evil’s not ugly

Nor does it scare

Temptation you’ll find

Seductress fair

 

So now you stand

Heart at your mark

Just make it clean

And end the spark

 

For death is my dancer

I write his song

The word that you could

Never sing along

 

 

 

Poem 13: Burberry and Birkenstocks

Burberry and Birkenstocks,
And anything with Carol Burnett,
Get these things together
And watch how wet I get
If that’s a problem with you
I’m sure to get upset
Girl, you can have your own thing
But you’ll stay my filthy pet
So I grab my kicks and spray myself
And watch Little Orphan Annie
Get in the mood
Because I’m on my way
To come invade your panties
So when you want to start me up
Just sneak up to my room
Turn the tube on Nick@Nite
And spray that damn perfume
When that odor hits your sexy body
I’ll come running, in my shoes
Ready to sing about “Little Girls”
And drink a little booze
Overfill the bathtub
Pull the curtains to the floor
Tonight we’re getting freaky
You’re my dirty red head wh*re
I’ll be yelling, “WHOOOOOOOOO!”
And you’ll be screaming, “YESSSS!”
Do like Daddy Warbucks do
On your body I’ll invest
Then I’ll ride you like the stock market
Top it off with a cigarette
I’ll spritz you down with Burberry
And call you Miss Burnett
In the morning you’ll grab my sandals
To go and turn on the T.V.
Get back in bed
And shnuggle up
And watch some Mama’s Family

#14 Chocolate

Chocolate is not
a universal gift
or acceptable to all
as comfort food.

The looks I get
when I refuse chocolate
being offered to me
are those of surprise
and sheer disbelief.

I wish my weird allergies
to celery and chocolate
were as well known
as those of peanuts
or gluten.

Ace Romeo

Cigarets and long blacks,
Working half the day,
Two hours to carve out a song,
And carve from time a record made.

To teach and learn and read the signs,
The words to songs you’ll sing.
In short coffee shop conversations,
We map productivity.

Poem #14

If only we all had do-overs.
We could relive a day again and again,
Finding the best solution to every problem that is produced,
And always come out on top.
Near the end, you would have said everything you needed to say, at the proper time, and in the proper tone.
Who needs supersoldiers,
When all you need is unlimited do-overs?
It would be the end to all regrets,
And safety could be 100% ensured.

Reincurnation

A “Carnal Cur” she called me.
One that had my teeth first free
To lap the gentle blood of lambs.

Me! Once a king, now accursed of four feet
A wet, cold nose, in this wretched heat.
Never did I buy a single soul!

Indeed, mine I sold for providence
And England. And now I am hence
A slave to fight for men’s merriment.

She cursed me, that Margaret, Queen
And wife of wretched history.
Chained here to fight for death.

And so, I fight. I fight the kings
Of ages past, all wicked things.
We fight, we kings returned.

We fight to tear the faces off
The others, surrounding us a trough
Of blood, and spit, and flesh.

Our flesh. And at the end, I cry.
I grieve my cursed soul and the lie
That bore me here again to death.

I am King Richard III! Do they not know?
Across from me, red eyes aglow,
Was once a Caesar snarling.

Yesterday, I ripped the throat of Hitler
As they cheered. His bones now brittler
Than a chicken’s neck.

I am done now. Weary of my fate,
I whimper to no one. No love, just hate.
Done. Spent. Blood at the light of end.

Odd (14)

This randomness is brought
to you by
the letter 2
and the number
Q.

Autobiography of a Face

My face would prefer a nap,
Having slept loosely and lightly,
Worried about a multitude of decisions,
None of which life changing or changes
In the long and short of things.

There’s a head that hurts behind these eyes,
A stomach full of bread and fish,
And a heart missing two children.

My neighbor’s child graduates tonight.
And a party across the field
With food, and punch.
A proud moment indeed.

Why do I eat when I am not hungry?
Because I am old, not wise.
I’ve saved my wisdom for the next life,
And used it poorly in the last.

#13bis – Show me everything

Show me everything

Of what you did against this wall

Tell me the truth

Or I call my brothers

And it will be the worst day

Of your life

 

Show me everything

But keep it between us

Show me everything

 

Come here in this corner

Show me everything

My dad is a cop…

 

Show me everything

The frogs and the skates

The joys and the damage done

 

When I come back

You got to sort that out

Show me everything

 

 

Hour Thirteen

Knowing which way to go, it’s quite the same
And what is thought to be right is right
Because at pinnacle light soon came,
From places made from cosmic remains
Where dark turned to light and light to night,

And from every peak a worthy view
That will be seen by new and old once there.
Oh, I had the heart to go and do.
But seeing the horizon I knew
My choices are mine alone to bear.
I shall be sharing this without delay
Nowhere eons and eons from here:
Three streets to choose from in town, but they,
They didn’t take any of them anyway,
And they never left that bottom tier.