The Poetry Marathon

Prompt 13

I’ve been told you can grow from love

no matter

which part of it you are holding

I was on the giving end

rocking through manipulation

relationships so pale they glowed

a half vanishing dilemma

teaching me that one can also grow from pain

 

Packing lighter

harder to unravel

no longer fearful of missing out

I long to give up everything

there are no comforting excuses for anyone’s behavior

that makes me tear out a page

of myself

 

I knew I had to eliminate something

so I told my children stories

so they could see my human

and not hold me to the sky

 

I tell them to place my feet on the dirt road next to yours

allow me to stand in the shade with you

let the air wrap around us four

like a hug

 

I am just like you

We are in a moment

that will pass soon enough

see me as someone

you can hold understanding for

 

#17

You’ve never gave up on me, a love everlasting, that I’m truly grateful for.

Second-hand Addiction

Second-hand Addiction

The first joint… It got you.
The bottle… It got you.
The pills… It got you.
Heroin and meth HOOKED.
Watched you stumble,
roll through
everyone else’s rock bottom
except your own.

Repetitive cycle. Hooked.

You don’t have a
problem though—
no care for the ones
that you love.

22~4

I often envision

the past

of my home

the rustle

of long skirts

giving way

to short fringes

Waylaid

Not where I long to be
Not free to just be me

Another fucking
growth opportunity

Lesson learned

Not to be waylaid

Guess I’m just a fool for
Not staying true to me.

Wanting to be free
To have a good time

Not bound by
Other people’s rules

HOUR SIXTEEN ~ Everything and Nothing

EVERYTHING OR NOTHING

 

You can call it faith, if you like.

If that’s easier than leaving the unnameable to itself.

 

There’s an exploration that goes beyond naming,

But revelations are only for the curious.

 

Enmeshed in all these distinctions,

refracting a reaction like lightning.

 

So can you tell me, then, sunset chemist?

What secrets lie behind the sky?

Poetry Marathon Hour 16:

Prompt: Dance with me

 

Poem 16:

I’ve been here for far too long

with no real idea of what I’m doing

or why – but I’m going to beg you

to shut up and dance with me –

 

because I need one hell of a distraction.

-M. Rene’

Sincerelybluejay poetry

 

Communication is Bare Minimum

Communication is Bare Minimum

I’m on the edge
of your lips
holding on
to the safety in your voice.

-raiseyourexpectations

Like driftwood to a drowning man_ hour 16

Like driftwood to a drowning man.

Like driftwood to a drowning man

Like fresh Agege bread to a starving man

Like an oasis to a parched dessert crosser

Like a playboy centerfold to a horny teenager

Like fresh goat peppersoup on a cold day

Like mommy’s milk to a hungry baby.

That is how you feel to me right now.

How does your bed look to you right about now?

 

 

Prompt 16, Hypocrites

The last of the fires had been extinguished
and we had left the books required
to teach the flock.
We had dinner in a haze
but asked the crustaceans
for forgiveness before
pouring butter
over their boiled shells
and the meat
before stabbing
at our plates.

Over coffee and dessert,
we begged mercy
for the labor
required to harvest the wheat,
to grown and pluck the beans,
to smelt the silver for the dinnerware,
and the women to bear the laborers
who served our courses.

Who were we but God-fearing Patriots?