The Poetry Marathon

Running a Marathon

Just enjoy it!

No good running if you hate it.

 

A marathon is a long way

To run for those of us who love to run

 

Let alone for someone who doesn’t

It’s even longer an eternity, a private hell

 

Do what you love and you will turn up each day

and do exactly that!

 

A Marathon is a three way race

Of Mindy, Body and Soul

 

At the point where the body fatigues and hits

The intangible wall it no longer becomes the battle of the body

it becomes the battle of the mind

 

And when you no longer fathom the task at hand

It is then that your soul

carries you home across the finish line.

The American Visionary Art Museum (AVAM)

A haven on earth for way-less wanderers

You steady my unsure steps, ascending the sparkling spiral staircase.

Mirrored mosaic wings of the falling angel catch my eye; make me smile

We exchange knowing glances

You see in me what I don’t see in myself

Meandering through your curvaceous halls and walls

The comfort of a familiar embrace.

http://www.avam.org/stuff-everyone-asks/what-is-visionary-art.shtml

“Cell 17”

When the keys are turned,

And all is silent,

Alone in darkness,

Solitary confinement,

Is an absolute solitude.

They never spoke

Sometimes words remain silent
Actions are loud

Mouth remains shut
Eyes still shout

Many times we talk
But don’t say much

Hold each others hands
And touch says us

If relations are made
and bonds we live

Then journey of the unspoken
becomes a bliss…

Fatigue

My body, sadly enough, is not what it used to be.

I can feel more and more the every snap, crackle and pop when I wake.

Fingertips know the drill , but they too pay no allegiance to any corporeal host.

I can feel the eyelids getting heavy.

I can feel my lower back giving me the finger.

It’s a challenge to stay awake,

To keep on writing meaningful words that spread hope.

Because I tell you what, I feel like the only spreading going on is myself lately and even that’s thinner than the ideal weight my doctor keeps bugging me about.

Poetry Marathon poem #16

He sighed,
content,
i could die.
Pause.
fuck that,
i’m fulfilled,
not done.
one.
two.
thee
for you.
epistle
letters arranged
poem to prayer
to page.
the risk.
the rush.
leaf the
loose losses
scattered sheets
prophets parchment
swiftly seeking
for information
gleaned and cleaned
to sparkle.
to fucking shine.
reservoir
reveal
man
with a mask
of mirrors
changling’s
persona
a forgotten
forest life
flooding
forthfar
longways and back.
The magic
returns
but that is
only because
my people
are fading.
i closed
my ears
to their calls
but no more.
i realize
mask o’ change
jack o’ lantern
silver and salt
sweat and luck
my gears are beginning
to turn.

Poetry Marathon poem #15

I shall
run
head-
long
into
blazing fire
for you,
always.
Holding my
bucket
of water
dreams
and hose
eternal.
Wildfire
nightmares,
beware.

Poetry Marathon poem #14

How many
seconds
constitutes
constitution?

Good Morning Chicago

Good Morning Chicago

The sun rises
And lights Lake Michigan

The Ferris Wheel
Rolls out of bed

The Skyline exhales
Looking down on
The Bean
Glimmering

The Mag Mile
Stretches
Herself out
Block after block

Buckingham spits

The Picasso blinks
His eye

Just so I can say

Good Morning Chicago

~.%

To Whom is May Concern

Hour 23 – 4:00 AM 

 

Poet at it’s best;  Writer at it’s worst.

I try not to put so much emphasis on my writer’s curse.

Much evaluated;  Lots unrevealed.

To whom shall we keep from the secrets of Solomon’s seal.

To the builders of the age, ensue your duties progress a better day.

Never mind the ones who doubt your tools.

Success is bred;

If spread like a disease success would be worthless and watered down like the rest of these PHD’s

We are one of our own kind;  And our focal point must consist of a greater human mind.

The time is near, the time has come.

Who are you to make a true statement and define it by none?

– J.C.  ©