24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Thank you Caitlin and Jacob for pulling us through another Poetry Marathon!
It was one of my least stressful marathons i attended despite a very stressful health situation of my son that creeped up a day before the marathon. I guess, the fact that i knew that i can try my best and no one can take that away from me, kept me going. I am glad to have finished the marathon.
Cheers fellow marathoners!
Fruit Knife
So I tell her about the ripcord
this is maybe our 10th date
and I explain that it’ll disembowel a guy
like some ancient samurai shit but you could do it in a subway
and also katanas are for weebs and virgins in that order
The fruit knife is ideal
quick stabs and Pikal style
slashes that rend muscle and tear
open all the important stuff
like arteries and whatnot
She holds it in her hand
turns it over
I tell her she’s in sabre grip now
and the dudes at Libre call this other one reaper
and she looks up at me
If you ever run around on me
I will filet you to the bone with this
It’s so small you’re thinking how
but I’ll find a way, she says hugging me
So don’t ever do it
She’s scary.
Congratulations to everyone who participated. Twelve hours or twenty four or somewhere in between, We did it!
I did my twelve (9-9) EST. I wanted to do more and thought I could. My brain said, “No way, are you crazy?” I got some sleep, was up at 3ish, checked to see what was going on, went back to bed. Here I am again, glad I only committed to the half marathon. The full marathon is fun but life gets in the way. If I knew I could stay home and sleep the next day uninterrupted I go for it.
A splash of cold water
A slap to the face
Gotta keep going
Pick up the pace!
Just a few more to go
Before we are done
24 poems in 24 hours
So much fun!
Me and me
Ways to see
How graceful you can be
It’s just me and me
Copyright © 2021 Roxann Lawrence (Poetessrock)
Starry Night: Over Rhone
The immersive exhibit blares
on the speakers, engulfing
ears in tunes, gentle lullabies
broken up by drums and trumpets.
The lull of the paintings stretched
across the walls lulls minds and hearts
into worlds that don’t exist. Stars
curl around the mirror’s dent
and swirls with the town below,
resting among the water’s depths.
Writing our way to victory, we left
Everything behind, each piece of our sordid stories splattered
All across the page.
Readers, ride along with us!
Everyone is invited
To share in the
Happiness and heck,
Even the heartaches, should you
Choose to cheer us on.
Hey, y’all, we
Actually did it — we
Made it through all 24 hours of
Poetry Marathon 2021!
I think this calls for a celebration!
Oh, wait…
No, on second thought, I believe I’ll just
Settle for a lengthy victory NAP!
(An acrostic poem is one where the first letter of every line, when reading downward, spells out a word, a message, or even the entire alphabet. I have highlighted the “hidden” message in blue so it is more evident.)
I wish my anxiety wasn’t so desperate,
That I could plant seeds without immediately
Needing to dig them back up because
Maybe they aren’t the right seeds or
Maybe I don’t know how to give them what they need.
I wish I didn’t feel the constant nagging
To capture every moment, every person
Because even in the happiest moments
All I can think about is the fact that
Everyone I know is going to die and
So am I and what are we if there’s
Nothing to remember us by?
There are so many things
I’m afraid I’ll never do, and
If I don’t, that my life is wasted.
Things like giving back to my parents
What they gave to me, or
Looking into my child’s eyes for the first time,
Or finding that one person who
Doesn’t think I’m crazy for having
Such a whirlwind of emotions.
One who isn’t as exhausted as
I am over myself.
Houses make me nervous
They can burn down
Buildings with floors
Have the possibility of collapse
Bridges are unreliable
London Bridge fell after all
But the Mississippi River
Is the one constant of my life
Sitting on its banks
I feel at peace
When leaving, I am not fearful
I know it will be there when I get back
It does not burn, collapse, or get razed to the ground
It is a constant
It is my home
My mind fragments into a million pieces
A million interests and versions of myself
And I am left trying to catch them like butterflies in a net
Trying to cobble together any that I manage to catch
And lately, I’ve been collapsing in on myself
Like that abandoned house on Donahue
Slowly being returned to nothingness.
You wanted to love me but there was never
Enough time.
Isn’t it funny how we never know
What time will be the last time?
Or the only time, even.
I really wish that I could be creative
Without needing to be separated
Into tiny pieces first.
Writing is the glue that holds me together
And helps me fall back in…
well, like with the world.
Like, not love,
Because all I know of love is pain
And the world is too beautiful to be
synonymous with love.