The Poetry Marathon

Blazing Summer (hour 2)

Oh summer time , Oh summer time
you make me whisper a love so divine
you send your beauty in such a sweet array
you clothes mankind in sun rays, you brighten
each day with laughter and music
The flowers are beautiful
the fruit trees all have bear fruits
ripe and ready to enjoy.

Mangoes, Guineps, Apples, oranges and plums
are all in season, check out the sweet sop and the sour sop.
Its so much fun to bask in your season
one in which I am never bored.

The sun sand and sea is what makes
you glow so sweet,
Children enjoy the beat as they hustle
to the beach, pool and rivers to enjoy
the water so cool and serene.

Parties blazing to the
so loved reggae beat
as we jam to Bob Marley in the streets.
Back yard dance drop feet in a streets
to the music a just did summer heat.
children head to the rivers and pools ,just to enjoy

.

The Place Where Cranes Dwell

Good morning!
–Ish?

That look you get, you know, the one that says, “Be honest.”
Without ever actually opening that beautiful mouth of yours?

Of course, how silly of me.

And I chuckle to myself, though I do so loud enough
So you can hear
Not to draw ire from you, though
I chuckle for you, too

I know you would do the same
Were I in such a state as you are in now

The state of wondering
How could someone be so damn cheerful
So early?

My secret?

I wake long before you do.

And as I lay next to you
After hours, sometimes, of waiting
for that telltale sound you make

You know, the one where you say, “Good morning!”
Without ever opening that beautiful mouth of yours.
Somewhere between a sigh and smile

It is something of a small miracle that I do not attempt
To guile out of you those words, so that I may hear them

So I have my lips
Talk with yours

A good morning
Without ever having to open that beautiful mouth of yours.

 

Three things Prompt 2

Between breaths I mutter sweet reminders to myself that I’m worth more than struggle. Time seems unkind as I age still holding on to old dreams that never seem to fade.

I search for exit signs that will lead me to a space where time doesn’t matter. I hope that everything I need to see I will, so I hold on and try to be honest with myself.

I understand that every day I wake up greeted with the sunlight won’t be a good morning.

I force myself to not think about time. I tell myself to carry enough passion that will take my imagination beyond the 24 hours time gives us today.

My treasure island means that I am living my dream rather than dreaming about it.

It means not allowing bill folds to hang over my head like broken halos.

It means honoring time enough to work after hours to achieve your goals.

It means allowing the soft moonlight to glow upon my pen strokes across word kissed pages rather than closed eyes.

✨Lock out Elysium✨

I always had faith in love and miracles.when I first met you, I knew
I would put my emotions on the line.
To be part of you is something sacred, I’m reborn each time I wake up in your arms.
Your lovemaking takes me to heaven
Your passion takes me away into a Elysium…
Your presence alone it’s an Elysium experience.
If to keep you I must drop to my knees and testify all my wrong doings, I will…
You make my sins so small, when you forgive me and embrace me.
Please open the gate to your heart, I can’t wait to see your soul through the window of your eyes.
Right there in your soul I want to stay. Without you I feel out of place, where do I belong? I feel broken without the light shed on me by your love. Can I just stay here…
Can I Just stay here….
I just want to stay right here…

—Marquez Meriyen ✨

Ode to Poetry — Hour 1

How simple, yet flowery,
You can be,
Whether you’re describing
A mushroom, a grasshopper,
Or a vegetable.
I long to be just as concise
And to the point.

Should have been born a fish

I hate gravity…

 

It causes billowing spots, all over,

of blue and purple

that turn unnatural shades of

green and orange.

I was born on land to live

a tortured life.

The corners of tables grab me and

the smallest of pebbles can trip

as man-made devices assist my fragile, weak body

in the simplest of things.

 

But in the water…

 

There is no gravity.

Fluid motion fills my limbs and, for once,

I am strong.

One kick sends energy to wings

suddenly sprouted

and nothing reaches to grab or stop my

forward inertia.

No crutches or chairs with wheels.

No thick pieces of glass sitting across my face.

At home, my limbs obey my commands,

as colors dance off of each other

with sparkling exuberance.

 

I am me under the water…

SunFettered

Soft moonlight fades into good morning beams of ecstasy
Drawing closed the curtains
I must hide from the after-hour sun
Biddings of good morrow cascade
In tireless freefall they flow

But I have built a dam to keep the fields moist
For I am something like agriculture
Parched by the heat and brightness
My green skin awash in the new-day sun
I am but wilted leaves

So as the sunlight beats at my thin external covering
This scorching becomes too much
Relief is sought from heights above
To block this, the vulnerable earth
From the bright, death, Creator

Hour 2

Chats with the Moon
To be honest, we are all a rather lonely lot
So I’d be not embarrassed at what I sought
A night that actually should have been dark
Was lit by the moon and my thoughts decided to embark
On a journey of shared thoughts and chats with the moon
In the soft moonlight, I realized though not so soon
The moon was rather lonely
Too far away from us, torn from what it had been formerly
So I asked how it was, how it had been so far
Whether it felt lonely often, whether it cared for some star
I was surprised at its answer to me
Longing was what it had yet to see
“There are many who talk to me after hours” it said
I suppose it was right, what I had read
We are all a rather lonely lot
So I’d be not worried of the company the moon might have sought

Hour 1 — Life in the Deep

 

I am a stone
A rock of unique contours
and striations

Broken off the crag
The cliff at the far end of the shore
Our old home
A few hundred we were then
However, over the years, we have moved away

Since our break
We have travelled many miles
These past few decades
From the coast to the basin
To these sea waters, green and blue

My purpose, I often think, is probably to provide
A surface for the gentle algae to grow
To feed the fish
The lovely tiny creatures
Colorful and frolicsome they swim
Tirelessly

Our brothers, my fellow stones, we are gradually moving
Towards the great fall, they say
Where another ocean waits for us
below these waters
There, the fish are grim and vicious
We are told

But I don’t worry too much
Being a stone
(of favourable mineral compositions, I might add)
I strive to serve
And serve happily

Morning salute