The Poetry Marathon

I rub the place between my eyes
The pain from simply feeling

I step outside to view the skies
A hawk, it soothes my healing

I look for you in every cloud
You rarely let me down

I wish I’d said the things I felt
When I could share unbound

You knew I loved,
yet many words
left hanging in the air

You never heard
the words, I cried
when you were barely there

But:

You may have known
How could I know?
Until I’m where you’ve been

You show me, though
That you can pierce
A veil as yet unseen

Until we meet as two new souls
We live here in this scene
With you, your birds
And I, my thoughts

Existence in between.

—

Copyright 2023, SashaS

Looking out the back door
I see you in our hammock,
hardback novel jammed in beside you, splayed open
but your eyes are on your phone

I want to tell you I just nailed up the artwork we bought
together, when we were talking like normal humans
sitting on the cracked steps, discussing
space and Sufi mystics and our big oak tree

I suppose I could bring out our old habits:
cheddar cheese, and those purple wine glasses
we got at the flea market, but you
will tell Tuesday’s therapist we have nothing to talk about, anyway.

I step to open the garbage can
and throw your sunflower seeds for planting
inside.

—

Copyright 2022, SashaS

I completed the Half Marathon in 2020, and was jazzed to participate in 2021. However, my dysfunctional home life and relationship led to me not completing (or even getting started) in the 2021 event. I am so happy to have let all of that go, and that I can now focus on the important work of writing and healing through poetry (I see it as that significant, this year).

But I am mostly grateful Caitlin and Jacob allowed me to participate again, after last year’s false start.

I will make it count!

SashaS

“I reckon’ it’s time”
he says
standing up from the table.

I watch him go out the door
his back
disappearing into the dawn.

I set the dishes in the sink
his on top
turning on the water flow.

I make circles with the rag
his lunch
already planned in my mind.

I slip off my apron
his favorite
and let it fall to the ground.

I place a bright red apple
his disgust
on that plate

and leave, with
the door hanging open

—
Copyright 2020, SashaS

Hello everyone–glad to make your acquaintance! This will be my first poetry marathon, although I’ve been writing poems since I was a kid. Prose, screenplays, academic papers…well, those have taken over most of my writing these last few years, so I want to stretch myself; explore the genre in a demonstrable way again.

I have no doubt I will write some less-than-great pieces over the course of the twelve hours, but I hope to discover a couple of gems in myself, too. I will attempt to remind myself it’s more about the work and less about the outcome, although that may be a difficult mantra come hour six. 🙂

Nevertheless, I am excited and am brimming with ideas. See all of you very soon!

Sasha