The Poetry Marathon

A World Weary Web

I have a world weary web
under each eye.

Sometimes I want them flattened.

But along each thread, travel
the things I have seen
the wants I have felt
the needs I have forgotten.

Splaying out like questing fingers
onto my still young-enough cheeks

they meet and mesh;
and remind me that I still live.

long days

Fishing ugh!

Long summer days!

Time for swimming and fun.

Not touching bait and worms.

Lemonade and sleeping in.

Not rods and reels.

Friends and sleepovers.

Not sweat and fishy smells.

Summer fun

No not this one!

Contentment

Contentment
Simple desires
Outlaying animation
in life moving testimonies
no wonder
to ponder
immensely shaping
future from today
undertaking of spirit movement
soul releasing
a wonder so imminent

So Dance

So Dance
Virginia Carraway Stark

Dance with me
Dear heart
The night is still young
It’s not even
Noon yet
The clouds are breaking
With every cheer
Of bird song
The puddles don’t splash
Above our ankles
So dance with me
And sing
Because the night is young
Before noon

Letter of love

Words of love starts with a feeling.

That enter your heart.

For a love that is so real.

Letter of love.

Words writing is real.

1.Love 2.Heart.3 Life.4 Forever.6 Real.7 Heart of love

Letter of love starts with one word.

I love you.

Letter of love starts with one word enter the heart.

Warms the soul .

Warms the heart for a love that is so real.

Just by the .

Letter of love

 

You

The moon is high in the sky, it is shining through the cracks in the broken blinds, illuminating your face

and in this light

you are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on

I want to drink the moonlight as it slithers across your naked body, waving through your curves

In that moment I can see your skin glowing

my finger tips slides up and down your spine, your body shivers and quivers under my touch

soft breaths escape your lips, lips that I wouldn’t mind tasting for the rest of my life

I captured this memory,I folded it up and keep it in my back pocket of my jeans that you could never wait to take off of me

Now I lay in that same bed, where we made love, where we laughed and where we cried.

But now,

I am laying alone

 

Mask

Is it the fear and fury

The rage roiling within.

Is it the judgment with no jury,

Or the slander of sin.

 

What causes these fitful nights

Fear making me see red?

I crave blood fights

And it’s nothing that’s been said.

 

So I wear my mask.

Hide from the world

And no one will ask

If I’m a normal girl.

Prompt for Hour Four

Write a poem that belongs to a specific genre, ie: a science fiction poem, a fantasy poem, a romance poem, etc. . . Feel free to use cliches, or subvert them!

The train

It didn’t show the future

Only present was cherished,

My thoughts went green,

All the memories when seen,

 

faces full of affection,

Smile pure with courage,

though some things tasted bitter,

But happiness still litter

 

The train took me to soul,

Taught me to love,

One and all

Good Enough (#3)

I’m not as good as I want to be,
not as good as I thought.

I’m all twisted up in coils
machinery,
and knots—

chained to a speeding clock.