The Poetry Marathon

Second Breakfast /prompt 20- 4am

First and foremost

Feed my body

My stomach…

It can wait

Although I cannot

Live off of love

I have an appetite

To satiate

It’s 3 am

We’re half asleep

Our hands and mouths they wander

Like blind babies just born

From a litter

Trying to find their sustenance

Feed me, feed me

I am famished

Give me of that sweet nectar

That only you can manage

Fill my heart, mind, body, and soul

With every bit of you

Our second breakfast

Soon to be served

Will calm the hunger I have for you

Second breakfast

Dripped in syrup

Topped with whipped cream

Second breakfast

Gimme more

You know what I need.

~Rebeli

Dawn

See the dawn break
and know that Night lied
This is the lie that she tells
she whispers it every night
Night needs you to believe
that she has conquered the sun
But each morning it rises
as proof that Night has not yet won

Hour 15: Cravings

Wanting nothing more than

Completing this journey,

I felt myself fading and falling

Hanging on by a thread

 

Something whispered in my ear,

“Sleep. Rest. Heal.”

And I was wrapped into the night.

 

Wanting nothing more than

Making it to the end again,

My body collapsed, left me weakened

My mind kept creating

My heart stayed in the game

Yearning

 

Pain

content warning: depressing. talks about being in pain and is just. generally an upset poem.

i get so caught up in the reality
that i forget all about the pain.
divide and conquer. compartmentalize.
make it make sense. deep breaths.
try to stay sane.

how can i be doing so much better
but still be drowning?
it’s been a long time since i could last breathe,
and none of this comes easy.

i’m tempted to give up.
the thought makes my stomach hurt.
everything in me is aching
something in me burns.

who i was is not who i am,
although there’s similarities.
i try to manage it all the time
but get lost in the details of the shame.

pain is physical and emotional,
something i never quite shake.
i’m tired – of course i’m tired –
because it always feels the same.

Hour 14 (Bed Calling)

Thought I got it all sorted
Guess the best is yet to come
For my bed keeps calling
Never felt this way before
now I know there is always a first

Bed keeps calling
I need to run away from such temptation
Listing all the woes of the bed
let ,e retire now

Copyright(c)2022 Roxann Lawrence

Image Prompt -Poem 22 The lonely Journey

The lonely Journey

The grass is greener on the other side

Keep going

Don’t give up

The journey may seem far

The aerial view

Reminds me of the war in Ukraine

The line of trucks for the Russians

Trying to invade maripoul

The journey seemed lonely

But the Ukrainians hung in

Stayed in Lane

Help came from far and wide

The lonely journey arrives at the destination

The greens to overcome

The attention and focus

Required for the Poetry marathon

It may seem a lonely journey

But we are working towards a common goal

As part of the poetry marathon

Hour 22

Sabìnah Adewole

After Texas

It started with solar panel smashings

fields littered with black spaceware

twinkling in shards in the sun

next, they took down the turbines

felling them during maintenance

two workers were seen on top

embracing before jumping together

from there, it was the hydroelectric dam

hole blown in wall by homemade device

thousands of gallons crash through

drowning what must have been thought of

wrongly as an acceptable cost

soon the smog returned

and every anti-green hick

worshipped at the rigs and

returned to the mines

dying, choking, but feeling free somehow

pulling us with them into an Earth on fire.

22: tendered

there was,

in that place,

between

where the tide could reach

the sand

and where

its treasure lay

strewn,

the strand,

the frass

of upchurned storm

and wind,

driven to this reach,

beyond the waves

wild ride

and here

stand I

amid

the fractured

shells

of hope

21

I rarely use umbrellas on rainy days
I’d rather stand in the way of the water when it’s warm weather and okay

I always carry an umbrella late summertime nights When I travel by bus or train no matter if it rains , as my extra arm of protection

Àyó

They say “an African never reads” [so hide knowledge in a book]”…darken the path, put out the light.
Then watch how the turn of events today making this sound so right

Demo-cracy can be or maybe is a Demon gone crazy
Telling us how “all we human BEANS, should ‘STEW’ well together, so why on earth then did they leave out RICE”?
PAYING our leaders to miss-lead
Plus them never getting it right is a difference between black and white
But they’re beginning to look similar, right?

A blessing or a curse?
Whatever…we already made it worse.
Gifted a Trojan horse, and now we’re still looking for the purse.
Dumbfounded with ‘recycled’ speeches promissory of a future filled with riches.
Still, who cares about present hour needs…right?

Don’t be too quick to answer the question nor too slow to question your answer.

Going around in circles will only create a pattern

But it’s still the same bus stops… there’s nothing new!
So while we wait, care to join me in a game of àyó? One understood by just a few.

(more…)