The Poetry Marathon

Poetry Marathon Hour 1:

It is 6 am for me, and we’re getting started with coffee and all the support I’m crying tears of joy before sunrise even happens. So that’s great. Anyway, for poem one I’ve decided to go with the fitting prompt: Wake up Darling.

 

It is morning

a new day –

the day after.

 

Though the sun still rises

and I am decked in sunflowers

feeling the bees buzzing beneath

my skin again and again. Ready to

grow again. And you have told me

that I cannot control my body,

my relationships or soul.

 

And the sunflowers are in full bloom –

only those who know me as well as it gets

know this is indeed a code. A secret language.

That I am not myself today and probably

will not be tomorrow or the next day either.

 

But that is okay because I know

 

change is coming. And so are many

new seasons.

-M. Rene’ /

SincerelyBlueJay Poetry

Trepidation

We would walk up
on tippy toes
into the frigid bay
July heat forcing us
to see relief

With each successive ebbing wave
we would rise up
avoid the next higher
line of cold depth
soaking into our suits

until finally
one of us brave enough
would inhale deeply
and submerge
disappear from light and air

the rest of us
fortified by the challenge
each took our turn
until only one remained
how we’d coax and cajole

It’s not that bad once you get used to it
C’mon, it feels great
Just dive in and get it over with

with shivering giggles
the last of us would sink
down below the surface
jump up hooping and hollering
as though birthed anew

[Prompt 1: Write a poem about being in water. It can be about swimming, the shower, a bath, the rain, etc.]

Hour 1 (2022)- Early Morning Rain

As I slowly waken in my bed
The gentle sounds of plip and plop
Go lightly fluttering to my head
As the deluge of rain begins to drop.
I stir, I sigh, get out of bed
I open my eyes, as the dreams give chase
In this early morning summer storm
To the pitter patter of the comforting race
of raindrops.

No. 1: Firsts

Aah
First sip
Hot morning joe

As
First rays
Of morning sun

Are
First feelings
Warming my soul

First Hour Eintou

I write
Lines all the time
Sometimes I write in rhyme
Often I let the muse run wild
This entertains my friends
I write for them
And Bob

Water – hour ONE

water swallows me whole and

I push myself upwards to the surface breaking through

jubilant. until today. until i learn you are gone. and now the

 

surface is receding

becoming a small speck of light

i stop trying to reach.

A Monstrous Tapestry (Valkyrie) Hour 2

We darken our table once more,
A sombre requiem lament within,
Threnody for my wings so cruelly clipped.
Human liver between teeth,
As I seek remedy.

Fear resides elsewhere, I am bold,
Confidant in the love my cold heart still holds.
An alien situation for most, confidence exasperates.
Human kidney on tongue,
As I suggest remedy.

‘Our tapestry is woven, our story now spun,
Yet the narrative is crying, seeking pastures new,
A monstrous genre befitting, lives taken just as before,
Each death reflecting a sub-genre of horror,
Enticing great, masterful gore.’

Feeding into your swelling ego,
And hardened, ostentatious pride,
I observe as the concept surges into design.
Your tongue between lips,
As you reflect remedy.

Feigning truth-marred submission,
I encourage your darkness to emerge,
And as your lips release mine the story begins.
Your thoughts between mine,
As we reflect remedy,
A new dalliance does begin.

Dark

In the night

Moon sight

Stars so brightly

Here comes more darkness of

Shade ebony

Many runs deep inside

For you to see more light

Like a candle being lit

Noel prayer

Sermon told freely

Gathering up for worshipping

Fellowship with the saints

Communion in unity

Leaves something and not behind

Shares of plentiful mores

Brings joy, hope, and laughter

So Desperately

What a beautiful day in May of sabbatical

Sabbath to praise on into his holy name

In miracles times

When he comes

The light of day

With his promises

To stay

 

 

 

 

How do I do this impossible thing? – Half Marathon Poem #1

How do I do this impossible thing?

You ask me to go on
with my life as if
nothing happened,
as if you weren’t
suddenly half a continent
away.

As if our already too
infrequent time together
wasn’t made impossible
by distance and circumstance.

It’s not that I have ever
needed to hold you,
but I need to be in
your presence.

I am a wildflower,
struggling through the
tangle of the wilderness,
aiming its face at the sun
bathing in the light and
glory of its radiance.

Love, I shall survive
though I cannot live.

Intro

Very excited to try something new!

Deann Bucher

Louisville, Colorado, USA

She/her/hers