24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Could you give a moment, lend a hand, offer your ear or be a friend
Would you dare to try, talk and cry, sit and laugh, be a reason why
Should you leave it alone, give it a home, push it aside, find a reason to condone
How do you find purpose, make someone feel they don’t deserve this, help them not feel worthless, help one live and succeed
How do you know it’s not he, she or me?
Exercise, my life’s story
Always racing for the prize
And never see the glory
The 5 foot 8, one hundred and twenty pound body loved by all escapes me
No amount of sweat, no amount of pain
A 2 pound loss, a 10 pound gain
My sweet cookies follow me wherever I go
Shortbread Lorna Doone and faithful Oreo
A moment on the lips, a palate of pleasure
A life of addiction
No happy ending to treasure
Should exercise and cookies ever meet
A war will ensue until cookies shall defeat!
Congratulations half marathoners, you have completed the 2015 Poetry Half Marathon! No easy feat, but you did it.
Send us an email now, or in the next couple days to poets@thepoetrymarathon.com, to confirm that you have completed the half marathon. Make sure to include your full name in the email. By the end of next week you should receive your digital certificate.
And for all those marathoners still out there, you are at the halfway point! Congratulations! I am sending lots of energy and inspiration your way.
The only thing certain about life
Is that nothing remains the same,
Everything will change,
People will come and go,
Hearts and souls
Will be rearranged,
As time and tide wait for no man
And you pack all your worldly goods into a removal van.
The next chapter calls for a change of scene,
To shake things up a bit
And start afresh –
I know exactly what you mean,
It’s just that I haven’t quite finished this chapter yet,
But worry not, I’ll soon be gone
Because that’s what life’s about – moving on
To stagnate would be a mistake,
I need to accelerate
So you don’t overtake
And leave me behind
Life’s invitation to settle has been declined.
.
(c) Gemma Hinton 14/06/15
Limericks are (supposedly) not limericks unless they are obscene, ergo, not one for the contemplated collection of children’s verse. I like limericks (at least today) cos this one has earned me a 40 minute break!
#10
There once was a man from Number 10
Downing Street — The PM’s Den.
————Although not politic
————he sure did like to lick
& stuck his tongue up many a hen.
#65. It’s doable. Possibly a political poem.
The Move
New adventures
A chance to start fresh
A walk down memory lane
As you pack up one stage
To begin another
Hope for a better life
More opportunities and a brighter outlook
A welcoming community of old friends
A place to call home
On the eve before my demise
I pray that my love will never cease
As I am riding on the wings of time,
Measuring the countless experiences
That man is destined to have.
All of this has been for a purpose;
To show the ones to come
What is important and what is insignificant.
Cry for me about your fate,
But it was written in the stars
Before you were even born.
Good riddance to the errors,
Faults, and sufferings of our time.
Midwestern girl transplanted in the Bay Area.
Temp. job in a warehouse.
No air conditioner.
Who needs A/C in the Bay?
Typing, filing, sweating.
“I’m in the mood for an icy pop,”
I chirped,
Imagining a Big Gulp filled with Diet Coke
And
Lots
And
Lots
Of
Ice.
“I’ll run out and get us some snacks. What flavor do you want?”
What flavor do I want? What is she talking about?
“Diet Coke?” half question, half answer.
“Diet Coke? They make Diet Coke popsicles?”
Popsicle?
“I don’t want a popsicle. I want a pop with lots of ice.”
“Pop? Oh, you mean soda.”
Moving is tough.
A Moving Tale.
A noisy adulterer
Snagged his pants
On a lemony tree,
While climbing
Over the filigree.
He got off a kiss
But had to leg it
Due to the risk.
He was met
By an irate wife
Who decried
His “other life”
His “extra job”
And knifed him
In the gob,
For infidelity.
It was the lemony tree
That gave him away.
You see.