The Poetry Marathon

The day is done

up is the sun

my work was fun

this challenge was won

I have many bad puns

I even spoke of a gun

I am truly The One

My eyelid weigh a ton

I even called my hun

I will not be undone

for a new day has just begun

WHEW!  I have about 9 more hours before I can get some sleep!

Time races past as we age

Like a train when late

Or your daughter’s first date

Time creeps slowly as we wait

Like watching paint dry

Or for that cake to rise

Time is something that can’t be regained

Like wasted opportunities

Or missing out on you and me

Sleep is pulling me

while I want to rest

aching to keep moving

when I want to crash

exhaustion is overwhelming me now

Seeing incongruent shapes

outlining maps

to destinations

unknown but significant

and important

but randomly laid out

and visited

the order is unknown

but the locations are home

Fuel tank on E

the engine is pulling more

than what is stored

if not replenished…

I am stranded

immobile

vampires, leeches, and mosquitos

all parasites

in many species and

human forms

have this in common

they pull from

what is

preciously stored

giving in return

nothing

leaving us emaciated

exhausted

depleted

dry

but we must cut them

off

at the pass

and seek other ways to be

restored

stringing beads

in a pattern

is both ritual and

catharsis

the careful consideration of

colors, gems, jewels, and metals

coordinated to express a mood

or a special moment

scooped up

on thin needles

and strong thread

over and over until completion

the care is intentional

knowing its placement and purpose

worn to adorn and remind me

of the power in my center

a connection to myself

and my culture

at once

as the beads are strung

and then tied

in place

permanently

Caged into a corner

I vowed to avoid

by my choice

because I didn’t speak up

enough

but

now I am stuck

working too much

ready for a vacation

but for now

must stay up

and fill in the holes

created by those who

take me for

granted

Take Up

in casual conversation a

scenario was described

innocently

that raised alarm

Break

the words stayed

in my head

days later

and would swim

in my mind bouncing

without conscious purpose

until it connected

Overtravel

and then the spin

noticeable

and uncontrollable

at moments

sparking irrational behavior

running ram shod on routines

and plans

goals seem so foreign

Reset

once recognized

grappling to unwind

pull the crazy back on the spool

and confront what was unbound

There once was a lady named Charlotte

Whose sister was a talented starlet

She would run lines in her room

For her break would come soon

And soon she’d walk down the red carpet

There once was a young man from Charlotte

Whose roommate loved to shop at Target

With red dots on his bags

His groceries he’d drag

But he still loved the farmer’s market

There once was a family in Charlotte

Whose neighbor was a former harlot

Her past was her pain

Although her dignity remained

For she bought businesses with her profit

A whirlwind of

half facts and full fiction

chaotically connecting dots

of political nonsense

highlighted by outrageous

social commentary

pulling cords of the naive

ignorantly manipulated

puppets on strings

of gilded threads

controlled by pockets

seeking to get deeper

purposefully instigating

insurrections

while claiming the

5th protection