The Poetry Marathon

“A New Wall”

“A New Wall”

I’ve come to a wall.

It seems to stretch forever in either direction.

It’s not a tall wall.

But I’m too tired to climb.

Dig? No, that’s ridiculous.

What do I do?

It’s a simple wall.

Not too tall, but big enough to block my way.

The climb won’t kill me if I fall.

So why aren’t I tackling it?

Why have I stopped?

My feet aren’t stuck, I can still freely move about.

But I’m standing still.

Do I need a rest?

Surely, this can’t be the end.

I’ve climbed many walls before.

How is this one any different?

 

Oh, right.

It’s not.

It’s me.

I’ve changed.

It’s no longer just me that has to climb over.

It’s my partner. My daughter. My family.

I don’t just care for me anymore.

Shouldn’t that be my fuel?

Why am I still not motivated?

How do I change that?

Can I change that?

 

I don’t know.

I don’t have all the answers anymore.

And I’m so tired.

Hour 13 – Haiku

Rainbow-rimmed orange

Slice painted on the cloudy

canvas, full of hope

Hour Six ~ Through the Window ~

Through the window , we see life, asleep and cold
world seems like an ice berg half alive
static silent still
though movement is visible
but pending doom
so far away it seems cannot zoom
The bridge connects,reflects a presence
but a mystery profound, on higher ground.

Sensayshions

I take walks home

Alone.

 

And they

Whisper to me

“It’s better without

Your jacket on

His shoulders”

But that was

Fourteen years ago

And I like

That

When I’m not

Alone

Your hand

Feels nice

On my shoulder

Hour 13.5: I Tried a Tanka

The tinted glass of
my windows Keeps the sun out
But the light is Not
something That can be stopped by
Curtains, the cracks remain still.

Extempore (Hour 12)

Like the nine letters of this title,

lots in life are not prepared for.

No matter how hard one tries,

certain things come preset.

Like the breath of air,

not extempore,

life moves on,

preset.

Live.

 

 

 

Written from the text prompt of Hour 12, as a nonet.

 

Hour 13: Surprise

One night I am awoken and much to my surprise
I see a man beside my bed and I open wide my eyes
For some strange reason I feel no fear
and he slowly comes my way
He sits down in the chair beside
My bed as if to stay.
For long moments silence swirls around
It is comfortable to bear
The stranger slowly reaches down
His hand gently strokes my hair.
In a quiet voice I ask, “Why are you here?”
He just smiles and with an echo he answers
“My child, do not fear.”
I slowly nod as I turn to sit on the edge of my bed.
The stranger encouragingly gazes, and then
I feel a slight feeling of dread.
I take my time to look around and see me sleeping still
But wait….I must be mistaken…..
As the knowledge begins to fill my head
I look back at the man.
With a gentle sigh he acknowledges me
Carefully taking my hand.
With one last look at my still form
I follow the stranger out of sight.
This is how I came to meet Death
One dark and mellow night.

Soul Flame

Soul Flame
Splashed on canvas
Soul flame blue
giving way to new

Hour 10

@varenyas

Normal

Perpendicular, straight, ascending.
Not parallel, but normal to the earth.
Like trees.

Breathless, obedient, acquiescing
Not questioning, but normal to the trolls.
Like views.

Ordinary, likely, predictable,
Not surprising, but normal to the we.
Like folks.

Theft, espionage, trickery.
Not ethical, but normal to the kings.
Like them.

Odd Form Out

Mitch Brown

Hr 13

I wonder why limericks weren’t used
Could it be that they’ve gotten confused
For it seems odd to me
Cause this form is so free
Did they fear that they would be abused