The Poetry Marathon

Choices

(My opening line is from Stopping by woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost)

Between the woods and frozen lake

neither path I wish to take,

For survival I must choose one

I’ll wait for the arrival of the sun.

The sun rises, my path still not clear

no steps taken, I’m shaking with fear

The lakes surface covered with Ice and Snow

however, the strength of it I do not know.

The trees in the woods whisper “come, This way”

beautiful in appearance, can i trust what i hear them say?

I’ll close my eyes and slowly breathe in

how did i get here, how did it begin?

Between the woods and frozen lake

which path should I take?

should I open my eyes and let out a scream?

Maybe i’ll waken, hoping it was a dream

This is not a solution

To take hastly that decision.

You’re exhausted about this life

You want to take the dredly step.

You’re so helpless.

You have no hopes.

You have no dear ones.

You’re an orphan.

You have so many dreams,

Those are always flying.

You have no strength,

To catch tightly on hand.

You’re gradually faded-

Now the final decision-

“Suicide “— for a better conclusion.

Think thoroughly-

You will regret finally.

You’re at the cliff of roof.

Now what are you trying to see?

Below is your world.

Where is your fear?

Can you see them.

No— they are going to sleeping realm.

You can boost up yourself.

Look at the sky-

So lively— like a new planet.

Will you want to smile?

Will you want to enjoy this time?

Conquer your fear.

Feel your spiritual power.

What can you see?A new appearance of yourself, really!

Missing the Pause

…Miles to go before I sleep

the days merging

into fast forward 

with very little Pause

Pause to be still

Pause for silence

Pause to breathe

Today I relish the chance of living in the 

Pause—

For how many unknown miles to go before I sleep

Graced with an Awakening

to the Pause

The text for “miles to go before I sleep”

Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc., renewed 1951, by Robert Frost. Reprinted with the permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC

We don’t know what we don’t know,
and in the scope of the universe
or universes,
we don’t know much.

That doesn’t stop self-proclaimed experts
from shoveling shit,
rejecting truths,
from filling our heads with bad info
and doubts, filling some heads
with assurances that aren’t assurable.

When you have questions, they shut you down.
You’re too young to know.
You don’t need to know.

Only God knows, someone I once knew would say,
then proceed to tell me what God knows.

Unproven, just a theory, my cousin says.
He rejects natural selection, but he believes
in the politics of survival of the fittest,
and that he knows what I don’t.

I’m sure he does. No one knows everything.
We all know something. If only
we could know what we don’t know. If only
we were sure of what we do.

Finally, beware the person who professes to know
what’s best for you. Sometimes
we don’t even know ourselves. Sometimes
we can’t even recognize truth
when we’re staring her in the face.

– after Robert Frost

“But I have promises to keep”
-Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.

Glowing Pen

And to my shadow I bid goodbye
As the night swallows my bleary eye
Yet I’ll keep my pen and keep it bright
With it I’ll write words that won’t die.

The night is starry, lovely, and deep
The wind chants rhapsody for me to sleep
My glowing pen is losing its light
But I have promises to keep.

Whose words these are I think I know
His house is in the heaven though
He will not see me stopping here
To watch my pen lose its glow.

In a night so starry, lovely, and sweet
With a chant of wind that is hard to beat
I will hold my pen, I will not sleep
I will write the promises I keep.

Between the woods and frozen lake
a gulf exists where one might take
a brief respite from travelling onwards
a chance to breathe, a chance to break

Between treacherous, ice-covered, unknown depths
and thick, dark woods of unknown breadth
a moment here to gather wits
and to choose which path might mean my death

No space between my hand and rifle
each heartbeat, nor each imagined, frightful
would-be end that I might meet
with wolves and icy death as rivals

And so I chew, and drink, and eat
and gather strength; dare not to sleep
for I must move, and choose between
living or dying; triumph, defeat

Photo by Riccardo Chiarini on Unsplash

Inspired by (and with credit to) Robert Frost’s Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening | Poetry Foundation

Merry Meet

Between the woods and frozen lake
All forsake what all should know
Of why they’re there
And where they go

Between the sky and the fallen snow
In hues of blue and shades of dust
The air’s adrift
With fairy imps and wanton lust

Between the dark and the break of day
Magic grasps morality’s reigns
Sexual arousal
Surging through their veins

Between the twigs and beds of leaves
Safe within the law of three
Ancient rituals now fulfilled
All is well … so blessed be

Line – Between the woods and frozen lake   

Taken from Robert Frost, “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” from The Poetry of Robert Frost, edited by Edward Connery Lathem. Copyright 1923, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc., renewed 1951, by Robert Frost. Reprinted with the permission of Henry Holt and Company, LLC.

Source: Collected Poems, Prose, & Plays (Library of America, 1995)

Promises kept or
broken as the miles disappear
in the rear view mirror.

Time to sleep approaches.
Distances are
closer
than they
appear.

Making the bed, I pull

the fitted-sheet corner tight,

slide to the next corner,

roll my shoulders. Pause.

Not my bed, but I’m

doing my best.

One more corner.

Out the window, the

garden bustles, bursts with

energy. Stalks bend in the

sea breeze that comes and goes

as the sky pleases.

Tonight, I will

sleep in this bed.