The Poetry Marathon

Hour 7

Sarah,

Please?…
I read those
Dull, dark,
frightful words.
You have to stop doing this to me.
Do, your realize what you do to me?

My heart
dies & comes back.
Tears roll down my face.
They dry up.
As more and more come.
Stinging.
Burning.
More and more flood out.

Please?
Stop, hurting me like this.
I can’t loose you.
Ever.
Please?
Stop hurting me like this?
Its all I’m asking.
Please?
It hurts me more than you notice.

You have to stop doing this to her.
So, she’ll stop doing this to me.
Just, stop okay?
It hurts my heart worse,
than anything…
Please, stop?

Yours truly,
April.

~April Sue Kraniak~

Only A Dream

“Only A Dream”

Dreams of waterfalls, sunshine,

Rainbows, and lush green fields with colors abound,

A breathtakingly beautiful landscape.

I am most assuredly dreaming.

If so leave me be,

Do not wake me,

Let me roll around in the fields, stare at the sky,

Find silly shapes in the clouds,

Poof!

It is gone, I woke up,

It was only a dream.

I Held My Breath (24)

The dark waters rose.

I had to slip into them.

I held my breath.

A Distinct Lack of Anywhere (23)

Here

There

Nowhere

I am nowhere else but inside myself.

It cannot be be otherwise.

You see, there is a distinct lack

Of anywhere anyone could be.

After Leaving Her (22)

What would they say,

Those from the coffin ship days,

To know that we hurtled through one night,

Eight miles above the ocean,

And came back to Ireland

After leaving her?

Touching Down (21)

Touchdown

This is Ireland

Again

I am in no shape to greet her

I think she knows me well by now,

And knows I need a moment alone.

 

Mist (20)

The eyes need rest

From seeing.

The mind from thinking.

I want to fall into the mist of nothing.

Whoosh.

What is the sound of this buffering mist?

Let It Be New (19)

The hands of the clock spin wildly.

I have nothing to say anymore.

I am tired of this voice.

If I have to have one at all,

Let it be new.

If We Bothered (18)

We’re never feeling nothing.

Couldn’t we find the gem

In any and all inner conditions

If we bothered to look?

Unturned (17)

To anyone who reads this:

What would you understand of me?

Eternally tortured?

I hope not, for I know secrets

That would ensure joy.

But I move through subterranean levels,

That I might leave no stone–

No stone at all–

Unturned.