The Poetry Marathon

“My 3:00AM Ritual”

 

Every weekend, before the world wakes up,

I grab my running shoes and head out for a jog.

In the University of The Philippines near my place,

It’s no race, I felt like grace,

And the feeling of being in a good place,

Starting my day right for the first time.

Silence, silence I can hear,

I am the only person in the oval running this hour.

No people around, something I prefer.

I love it here.

The world speaks to me like a friend,

I can hear it telling stories.

As If I am an old friend whom he sees once a week.

I don’t feel weak at all.

I gain power,

In this hour of total darkness

I see the first light of the world,

Sharing its blessed wisdom to me

Before I go on busking back

To my usual city state.

 

Text Prompt:

Write a poem about a routine or ritual that is part of your life. It can be something like making coffee every morning, or something like attending religious services once a week.

#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR20 #24HRSCATEGORY

Hour 22 “Children Have Always Been Cruel…”

Hour 22

9/3/2023

 

“Children Have Always Been Cruel…”

 

Children have always been cruel – they haven’t yet learned their humanity or the “accepted” behaviors of their generational society.  After they HAVE “learned”, they BECOME that society and their current cruelties are accepted as the norm standard to be taught to the next children as the new standard of accepted behaviors.  The previous generations are left to experience the new “accepted” behaviors and contemplate the “failures” of the previous moralities that no longer seem to matter to anyone but themselves… and life goes on – til it doesn’t.

 

Chris

(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023

Nature

NATURE

Nourishing sounds

Allowing me

To

Unlearn

Relentless

Exhaustion

 

Flourishing forever

World Chaos

Talking swords.

Transforming and shifting cats.

Dragons showing vain possessiveness.

Fields of flowers miles long in between two factions.

Hidden royals and copycats exposed.

Murder, mystery, escape.

 

Hour 22 – XX seeks YY and Pizza

XX seeks YY seeking XX
in a world where letters are confusing and deceptive
XX desires YY who knows his heart,
speaks his truth, and is perceptive

XX enjoys gentle hikes
sunrises and sunsets
lounging on weekends
and passionate kisses

XX seeks YY who enjoys the same
wants to share passions, explore new things
doesn’t mind family night with games
and is looking for XX like me

XX promises to share cooking and cleaning
overcome her insecurities
bring to life a newly shared meaning
to share her soul, dark and light

XX seeks YY who is ready
and open to the relationship dance
you bring the pizza, I the cheese
XX and YY – give it a chance

Utopian Dream Hours

 

On this haven, without any borders
where hunger’s echoes can end
No fury’s burn in that fireplace, no colors behind
in this perfect universe, is without inequality

A land in which want can not locate a place,
And ailments vanish, without any disgrace
Apathy fades, in serenity,
harmony graces each day with glee. Apathy fades,

No more confusions and diffusions
Love and kindness interlace bonds
United we stand, beneath a guiding hand,
No more sorrows, no more demands.No more doubts

With open hearts, and luminous doorways
In which wish awaits, desires start to grow.
We’re all akin, without groups and labels
Lightning new world without any dissatisfaction

So near your eyes, dare to look,
A tranquil tapestry, in contrast to what used to be.
In which most effective love and peace go with the flow,
In this ideal world, permit your spirits glow.

 

Prompt -23

Hour – 23

THE OTHER

Too confusing to be advertised

as desirable

This world is no less

inhabitable than yours

Chemistry enables the crossing

Books direct to traverse

bridges over strained

personalities

born to this realm

this other dimension

#Prompt 23 – 2023

Lost Escape

Deep in the ocean
Under the seabed
Is a path to adventure
Only the brave will tread
Through an invisible portal
In a rock that’s not there
Is a world like no other
Let me take you there …

The land is purple
The sun darkened blue
Creatures with wings fly
And those without them do to
The air feels like honey
The sea foams like wine
Trees grow sweet treats
That taste so divine

Morning is night
Daytime is cold
When stars want to play
It’s a wonder to behold
Bats smell like liquorish
Puppies meow
Kitten have horns and forked tails
Their feet planted in hell

Some vaguely remember
An escape now long for
But when you’re all grown-up
You won’t find the door

Concrete jungle

Hour 11

Monotonous grey buildings everywhere

Can’t walk without bumping into others

Living our same mechanical lives

Same routine, same ugly views

 

Yearning for some green views

For the glimpse of a flowing river

To walk under tall trees

Here even the plants are artificial

 

Lungs filled with polluted air

Stomach filled with junk food

Mind filled with insecurities

This concrete jungle is eating us inside out

True Story

She walked toward me
up a dark staircase,
as I put away boxes
of too many things to own.

I saw her dark hair in my periphery
wearing a blue skirt,
white shirt, short sleeve,
and a vest of Aztec design.

She was tall and thin,
like Sharon, the woman
in the room down the hall
who hated me for eating meat.

Strange bird, Sharon –
Gray with two faces.
Still, I tried, as I always do
to change her heart.

Then, just as I was about to say
“Sharon, you changed your hair!”
she disappeared. Yes, just vanished
into thin air.

It wasn’t Sharon.