The Poetry Marathon

Sixth poem

It’s ninety degrees!
You put clothes on a dog!?
What kind of monster are you?

He’s not gonna freeze!
It’s not cute for your blog!
And they don’t even match his shoes!

Poem #6

Are you my guardian angel?
‘Cause I think you’re missing your wings.
I was told you guys have them.
But, I guess I’m not an expert.

You are always there,
Helping, and watching over me,
But not in the creepy Edward and Bella way.

You’re there to hear my ramblings,
About the random tangents my brain goes off on,
My rants,
My odd view of the world,
And the evil schemes of the inanimate objects around us.

When I need a hug,
You’re there to endure it, even when I squeeze too hard, ordon’t want to let go,
And you squeeze back.

You sit with me when I need to cry,
But always know the right time to crack a joke and make me laugh,
Because sometimes,
I just need help with my comic relief.

So, even though you don’t have wings,
Thanks for being my earthly angel <3

Sweater Weather

The evening has a crispness to it

After long days of sun and heat,

A coolness sneaks into the breeze

Adding socks to chilly feet.

 

The leaves on trees are slowly changing

Losing the color of dark rich green,

The grass has stopped incessant growing

The glass is lowered on the screen.

 

The early mornings start in briskness

Cooler commutes from here to there,

Mums are boasting brilliant hues

And car exhaust is seen in air.

 

The stadium lights are bright and warming

The pigskin tossed by young and old,

The welcome again of sweater weather

Before the winter blows in cold.

 

 

Rx:Live.Laugh.Love.

Poem Six for The Hour Six

life is so precious to live for
we tend to f I n d what’s the best cure
asking for r e a L remedies from door, down, under
plunge yourself t O the pool of satisfaction
get energized, m o V e your body, drink more
scribble your thoughts, b E prolific
leave all Y o u r worries and be optimistic
focus O n the productive nature
U n d i s t u r b e d from any failure
indulge to the beauty of living a life
there’s so much happiness in little things
look at the sunshine each day brings
what a wonderful world to live in
soothing music will take you to a pilgrim
live.laugh.love everyday
for the world is ours, be happy
take this door to the hidden magical stairs
the best therapy that one can share

(c) ceri naz

#6 – Somehow

the unlikeliest of people
brought together somehow
final results that have yet to be seen
a band of life misfits
both low & high brow
what wisdom from each could they glean

some were quite candid
while others were shy
differences ranging south, east, north, & west
all somehow put here
to figure out why,
how, where, when they could be their best

to work as a team
or to battle it out
were the choices of all that were there
to live with indifference
or to love without doubt
to listen, to honor, to care

this cornucopia of hearts
somehow bad mixed with good
would cause turmoil, destruction, & pain
if they didn’t seek out
to do all that they could
to come together soul, body, & brain

discovering that each
had gifts they possess
that when blended could merit great things
learning to celebrate their differences
somehow encourage & not stress
realizing that with harmony community sings

all separate entities
working in sync
to make up a body of warrior hearts
journeying together
somehow bound link to link
though each unique in their own special parts

Addiction Prison – 6/24

This sober life is my Albatross,

heavy as a cross,

Bending my neck into knots.

Around me, I smell the nauseating scent of

alcohol and  weed…

I am too pure to be here

Trapped in this addiction prison

The walls all tallied with excuses like their arms with track marks and razor scars

 

It’s not always so bad

There are the innocent drunks

Who frequent a Saturday party. But still…

I am unfair here.

The scales never tipping in my favor

If this is not sickness

What the hell is it?

I hear the high flies buzzing on their potential corpses

I rot slower

because I rot sober …

Inside my inescapable  cell

Of everyone else’s escapes

 

@ angel rosen

Hour five

#6 poetry marathon: Autumn arch

Autumn

the changing of leaves gives

entrances and exits a whole new meaning.

The air is crisp and light.

Here was an arch like many from the Castille region in Spain

marking our footprints in the ground on this beautiful day.

Poem 6/24 – My Little Critter

The Child’s Conspicuous Voice

Hide me, hide me
Please!
Do not find me
I’m blind
Stop showing me Signs
Please!
Glide me, glide me
To un-design
The base
Of my
Vibrations
Inside of me
Hide me, hide me
Please!
Surrendering
All of one
And then,
None and even known
Crinkle tone
Of me