2016 24 Hour Poetry Marathon Poems

Look for these poems and the poems of other marathoners coming from StarkLight Press soon!

24 hour poetry marathon 2016

poem 1

Reason to live

; My story hasn’t been told

; There are still petals unfolding

of the journey I am on

; Loved ones worth holding on to

. But there is no fear in leaving

. Not when there have been so many times

; when Death has called my name

. And I’ve felt the loving embrace

Of the Universe’s arms

. Still, he says, ‘not yet’.

There is still a song you are singing

You can’t leave because you’re scared or tired

You can’t wonder if you’re off key

You must sing so I can hear and

Travel much further yet.

; There is a wonder to this world

that gets lost in the hurly burly.

;There are my Love’s arms and eyes

; There is the feel of the breeze

; There is the knowledge that every day

; Shows more of this winding path

We call it Life

But it isn’t anything except a journey

That must be walked

Sometimes alone

Sometimes together

But always, always you must continue;

This quality alone is worth exploring

; This need to continue

; This need to see where the path leads

; This desire to keep the pounding of our hearts

; To get home and write our journey down

; Next time

; There is always a next time

; I lay down a roadmap for myself


There are far, far, far too many sentences

I’ve left unfinished

This song still must be sung

So; living


KeepingOnAndRefusingTo Die


; ; ;

poem 2

Something Precious to Me


You might not see it in my eyes

You might not hear it in my voice

You might think I’m aloof




But it’s in my words

Poured out in ink made

From my blood

On every page my Love Letter

For when the words don’t come

Or when I’m too sad to come to you

Or too hurt

Too used to the fierce independence

That made it so I could be here today

I hope you see what is precious to me

In each Love Letter

I write

It is a letter to You

In my sorrow and my pain

Through even my joy and love

That can be so exuberant it’s hard to see

The girl underneath

Bowling you ever with my feeling

The nuances of what I am wanting, needing, being

Might get lost

Real life is so dirty

Covered in dirt and dust and cobwebs

Look for the letters

I wrote in my own blood

And then you’ll know

How precious you are to me

And maybe then you’ll see

In my eyes

My touch

My longing

How important you are

And how much the clouds

Of pain and confusion

Hide this vast plain

Of love undying and deepest devotion

The reason for all I do

My love it is only you

And my words on the page

Written out of torture and blood

Written out of tenderness and love

They may be the only place

Where all that is unclear is made clear

When I stop spinning

And there is only love

My heart wide open

As it always was

Every step of every journey

Made hand in hand

You were there

Even as my ghost lover

We made our journey

My heart pounds ever word

Life’s blood

Love Letter

Don’t be sad if I forget

To say the words with my mouth

Because they’re written a spear’s length deep

Into the fabric of my soul.

Poem 3

When I found out that day



Little me

With fierce eyes and chin

Could say ‘no’


Put an end to your demands


That I was valid

That you were

Just a bully


I was stronger than you

That you didn’t dare

To demand demand demand

When I, filled with fear

Saw the enemy

For what it was

And realized that

You were nothing


I was something

Something real

Something that could say no


Then I felt amazing

And every time

I come across

A new bully


I lift my chin

My eyes flame

And now I say that




Because I don’t tremble anymore

Any who demand

are not


to me

not even worth

the adranaline

Because to this day

I have learned


Self determination



Poem 4



The blast of warmth

of the scent of a home

with fresh bread baking

what it feels like in my nose

and on my palate

the scent of butter hangs

on the pale fragrance of yeast

While completing the celebration

in my senses

cinnamon rises up

with bloated sizzling raisins

and the taste

that tempts

so soon to come

makes the imminent fibers

about to hit my tongue

and the delicate skin of my cheeks

all the sweeter

while brown sugar carmelizes

in channels

that go

directly to my hindbrain

the sweek reek

of comfort

Poem 5

Still Art Apple


Skin textured like

The finest skin

Over the firm, hard flesh

of the melting insides

Nectar juice

squirting over teeth and tongue

I think:

This is what a bee tastes

when it pollinates

each flower

and tastes the ambrosia

of the apple,


with a hint

of tender green

on it’s upper shoulder

It’s stem

A slender umbilicus

penetrating into its heart

from its mother tree

into the seeds

that nestle in secret within

waiting to grow

more red apples

with tartly sweetened perfection

for bees

and mees

to feed on

Poem 6

A Great Injustice


What is Justice?

Except genuinely treating

People well for the sake of it.

There is no real definition of justice.

It is a concept more nebulous

More subjective

More contemplative

Than anything except the meaning of life itself.

Justice is love

That doesn’t descriminate

With our own biases

But we are human and we

Can’t help but feel ways

To judge as ‘they deserved it’

That is not justice

That is judgement

Which we have to right to

If we ever wish to explore true justice

We must overcome all queasiness

Over the evils of the world and the bad things

We must never ask why

If we want to be truly just

We must give each and every

Situation and person an even-headed

worse, even-hearted

audience and try to love them

And do the genuine best for them

This quagmire gives rise to

The question of

Can justice ever be given to more than one party?

Does the phrase, ‘Justice has been served’

Ever feel right to all parties?
If not, how can it be just?

And hope that doing so

Doesn’t cause

The greatest injustice of them all.

Poem 7

My Greatest Pleasure


Fingers dancing

Prancing and skipping

across the page

or on the keys

Pebbles skipping across still waters

ripples floating out

in excited revelry

as the scene comes to life

the words come out of me

in pure joy

the world melts away

as the words sing to me

and I to them

This is the greatest joy

The worlds merging into one

Reality proves itself

To be subject

To ripples on the pond

as my fingers fly

poem 8

The Most Important thing in the world


There is nothing that matters

But the tuggings of the heart

All else is moot

A nothing point

When the heart screams

Yes or No

Go right, go left

The world falls into chaos

when there isn’t total commitment

To the heart

The world is pain and confusion

When that quiet voice

Goes still

Everything else is illusion

The heart is the only true thing

We feel it, we know it

Ignore it for the bottom line

Money should never overrule the heart

It isn’t the most important thing

It isn’t the real bottom line

Happiness is the only true measure of success

Poem 9.

Describe sleep


Feeling so tired

I head off to bed

That’s when all of a sudden

Awake returns instead

And I think about things

Like writing ideas

Or things that happen tomorrow

I lie there awake

Tired left me for dead!

So I get up

Try to do something instead

Tired hears me rise

and returns to the room

I can’t think

Head’s a fog, I go back to bed

That’s when all of a sudden-

Awake returns instead

Sunshine on My Hair

Sunshine plays on my hair

Turning each strand

into liquid fire

It catches on my head

creating a corona of fire

Sunshine on my shoulders

A dangerous pleasure

Naked the light

Can turn my skin from white to red

But it feels like deep soft massage

Sunshine so brief

Soon it will be gone

For winter’s long course

But it will be back

Sunshine on my hair.

Poem 11.

A mythical creature

Dragon Lust

A dragon coiled

On a treasure trove of gold

Gold and jewels

Forged by human hands

Bathed in fire and blood

and taken for a purpose

that we may never understand

Why sleep on a bed so hard?

Why let the hard edges of gold

and silver

be your only solace?

Do you love?

Do you dream?

If you dream, is it of seizing your treasures?

Or do you dream of love?

Or of killing your enemies in waves of fire?

Smoke comes out your nostrils

Your lips curve up into a smile

What would make a beast such as you happy?

And how worried should I be?

Poem 12.

You as an animal



I am tumbling

running through the forest

on padded feet

scaring up flocks of birds

that hide on the mossy, leafy floor

I am panting, happy

Jump on you excited

By all you do

Lets run some more

Lets play

Lets never stop

Until we do stop

And then I sleep

In deep slumber

All thoughts and worries

Gone with the warmth

Of cozy blankets

And a place by the fire

As outside the thunder and lightning storm


Poem 13.

When I was little…

When I was little

The moon was my goddess

I swung up to meet her when she grew full

hoping she’d catch me

in her luminous embrace

She peered through the willow bowers

And kissed my face

While the wind whipped pussy willows

danced over tadpole filled lagoons

Like the littlest crone

That ever there was

I walked through the spring snow

Longing for glimpses

Of my mistress

Never fearing the night

When I was under the stars

Inside a house wass creepier

and more filled with dark corners

And things that grab little ankles

Walking through the forest

Escaping out windows

Raiding gardens

Braiding moon blossoms in my hair

When I was little

I knew only nature was love

And I was part of that love

Even now it beckons me

With the moon, nature’s Queen

Calling me back to her

And I hear her whisper

Waxing, waning, gibbous, full or new

Like myself

She and I are the same

When I was small

as we are now

Poem 14. Starlight


In the early morning of the world

Before the sun ever rose

The stars cast their gloaming light

Without anything brighter than them in the sky

And the elves danced merrily

Over hills and under trees

They sang with not a care

There was no one else to see

The starlight shone

Both night and day

And there was no such thing as bedtime

Only more time to play

In the early morning world

Hearts were light and young

There had never yet been betrayal

There were many songs unsung

So happy were those long ago days

We can scarce imagine

The joy in each being radiated from them

They were each a light unto their own

Then one day the sun rose

And then the moon came too

And everything was different

It’s how these things must go

Ever moving, every changing

We are the rivers and the sea

Never a stagnant pond

That’s the way life has to be

But on a moonless night

When there are only stars

You can feel the dreams

From when the world was dark

There is joy still to be found

Wishes to be made

Each pin prick of light is a wish

Even as dawn comes

And the stars begin to fade


Poem 15.

This summer has been a lightning bolt


This summer has been as changeable

As the wrath of the gods

from sunshine to stormy skies

And thunder shaking the roof

Storms the drown cities

Chaos flooding the streets

People weeping, things are changing

It’s written in this summer

That magic is alive and hunting

Our humdrum existence

Is about to change

Like lightning from the sky

Filling us with nitrogen

The air with ozone

turning plants green



Wind and rain

Then sung again

Something is happening

Things will never be the same

Poem 16. Autumn in the air

The wind blows

A shower of yellow drenched

Poplar leaves

Coaxing them from their limbs

Onto grass starting to brown

Around the edges that are

Always the first to tell-tales of winter’s return

The crows are calling

They are saying

That autumn in in the air

Trees shed their green dresses

In place of yellow, orange and red underthings

Then strip those off

To go skinny dipping in the cold

Drenching downpours of the fall

Soon to go polar swimming

In the coming snow

Autumn is coming, maybe not too soon

But I hear ravens calling

To make their peace and unite their clans

‘Summer’s dream is over,’ cries the loon

Twilights coming, Noon is long gone

It’ll be midnight’s cold and darkness

When you blink your eyes next

It will be time for winter to sing its song.
Poem 17. Dreams

Where do I go when I dream?

I asked the Father of sleep

He didn’t answer, he only closed my eyes

I didn’t even notice him come or leave

I asked the Mother of sleep

What happens when I dream?

But she was crooning to me a lullabye

And if she answered I was already asleep

I hunted down my dreams

To find out where they came from

I found a golden cord

That lead me to the center of the world

There I found my dreams

In the womb of the earth

Dreams are the coming of the next re-birth

Father and Mother of sleep may know

Their business well and sing me to sleep

Before I know I’ve gone anwhere at all

But can they tell me of the golden cord

My connection to the slumbering, pregnant globe?

I don’t think they know, they only mind my dreams

And keep me from getting tangled in my own cord.
Poem 18. Safety

Once I believed in safety

But there is no such thing

There are only things that mimic it

The word itself doesn’t know what it means

It’s something that is sold to us

Parceled out to us as reward

It’s not something to be counted

Or counted on

It’s for fickle than anything in the world

It’s been neatly packaged

To go along with cash

Invest wisely for the future

Or fall down on your ass.

Buy insurance premiums

Make sure to be a good citizen

Spend money, keep up the economy

Be afraid, be very afraid

And know that you will only feel safe

If you buy the latest everything

And insure the uninsureable

Life isn’t safe until you’re dead

And the only safety is Dead Safety

So don’t listen to what they say to you

There’s no industry to replace your mom or dad

There is no caring corporation who

Takes care of you if things get really bad.

Buying the latest thing won’t save you from your fears

The very fact you think that

Shows how very dangerous the world is

That all we have is the lies we’ve been told to clutch onto

As they slip like straw through our fingers

And leave us only tears.
Poem 19. A naughty thing

She was a naughty thing

Not in a cute, disarming way

But naughty like a gun barrel

Stuck between your teeth

She was naughty like Grendal

She was a monster who was always hungry

She was a thing, inhuman, insane

Devoid of any similarity to what we call goodness

She hated my pearls, a dear present,

Beloved for who they were from and where

Both of us had been on our life’s journey

She hated them so much, even though she had her own

That one day she stole them from my jewelry box

And ate them to make them hers alone.

She was a naughty thing and hated anything I loved

She thought that was an end to it but I wasn’t done

Each pearl is a tear we’ve cried

But we master them so we can wear them on the outside

And she thought she stole my mastery over my losses and pain

They were just an emblem, I’d mastered them all the same
Then one day, my pearls came back to me

Better than before, each one was a little larger

Each one a little brighter, more atuned than even before

The naughty girl was no more

And my tears were full of value added wisdom

I know naughty from nice, a lesson to learn

And I’ll pay that price nevermore
Poem 20. What I learned

I learned this year that

My heart has not broken

It is still wide open and although

I learn

I put a foot down and speak the truth

Still I approach each new thing, person, situation

with my heart bared and ready for piercing

I’ve learned that my heart can take a real beating

That I can break and break and break again

And endlessly re-assemble myself

Each time the glue I use is the glue of what I’ve learned

I come back stronger, refusing to die

Refusing to undo the connection I have to the Universe

Patiently regaining my strength

Stripped down to nothing I build myself again

Each phoenix of me rising is a new and even better me

Because I refuse to remain broken

Even if all there is in the world are a few bright lights

In the darkness, I will find them

I will bare my heart to them and, if they pierce my heart

And bring me low, then I’ll know.

Yes, then, I’ll know.
Poem 21. Write about a figure of speech as though it were literal (i.e. ‘I have too much on my plate’) as well as a metaphor

I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off

All this year it’s been that way

And I’m not sure I understand

Because my head’s been severed

Too much of my blood’s been shed

I can’t feel where my head was

It goes numb and I think it’s maybe

Only holding on by a thread

Rush here, rush there

Autonomous commands

Controlling me, pulling all my strings

Except the one that controls my head

It’s quite calm, I think,

It just sits quietly aside and blinks

Poem 22. Write a poem that starts with one word and end the poem with the same word


That all things are possible

And they will be

Don’t ever think that

Anything happens

That you weren’t there for it all

And if you think

That you can’t change

You won’t change

If you don’t believe in miracles

You will never see a miracle

If you impose your ideas and boundaries

On the world you live in

Then those ideas will become your binding

And you will forget how to live without them

You will forget that you can reach out

And touch the world with hands

That can make change

And words that either liquidate or fixate

When your mouth is sealed shut

By your own conditioning commands

You must believe that ropes can be severed

That hands can be free

That feet can run over hills and

You can go towards things or away from them

You must


Poem 23. I can’t believe…

I still can’t believe I got hit by a taxi

What a weird thing to happen

In a weird time in my life

Who would think: One day, I’m going

To go thunk, plunk, splat

On a road I walked on every day

I still can’t believe that the cab driver

gets away with running over me

and having sex rings

and selling drugs

and nobody cares

I still can’t believe that it’s been over a year

And I’m still dealing with the fallout from it

It’s not something I ever imagined

It’s still not something that I can believe in


I was hit while Journey played

‘Don’t Stop Believing’

But I never started to believe

That he didn’t even hit the brakes

So I don’t think I can be said

To have ever stopped

When I never started to believe

Not in that

Never in that

I want my life back

Poem 24. Endings


It’s over and it’s done

What is is no more

You can’t claim to have a connection

With me and treat me

The way you do

You can’t talk to me one way

And another behind my back

It won’t work for me

And I’ve put an end to it with you

Goodbye forever it’s over

I’ve already bid you adieu

It was after you hung up on me

Don’t expect me to be sorry

If you don’t think I’m worth listening too

If you hang up on me

And I’m crying and begging to know why

Then you’re over, you’re ended

This is an end to what there ever was

Of ‘me and you’.


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