This weekend: 2017 Kansas City Poetry Throwdown

It’s on again this year.

Come out. 3 days. 40+ poets. Madness.

http://www.spartanpresskc.com/throwdown/

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This weekend: 2017 Kansas City Poetry Throwdown

Poem Found in My Instagram Feed

martinhousebrewing likes this

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My late mother holding my older sister and Aunt Rachel withccousin Adam.

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First grade or so. Killin it obv

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Could I even read then?? Haha.

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onedayweb, aniehart, _mellofluous_ and coffeenquotes like this

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But you, you foolish girl, you have gone home to a leaky castle across the sea to lie awake in linen smelling of lavender, and hear the nightingale, and long for me.
Edna St. Vincent Millay

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steal flowers from the government

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Poem Found in My Instagram Feed

After The Hunt

In thick bed of green grass
On a Minnesota lawn
Hides an Easter egg
From the children’s hungry eyes.

The eggshell is not thick
And within life’s secrets lie.
Yes, inside inside inside
An entire universe resides.

The children never find the egg
And soon the thin shell splits,
Spider cracks expose life’s secrets
To the moist and worm-wrung dirt.

From the Easter egg then sprouts
The fabled Easter tree
With chocolate peanut butter sap
And broad, pastel-colored leaves.

All of life’s sweet secrets there
Sugar silent in the wind.
The mysteries of fertile faith
And marshmallow fowl without end.

After The Hunt

A Labyrinth Is Not A Maze And A Maze Is Not A Metaphor And A Metaphor Is Not A Magic Word

Lost in a maze of our own construction
Forever running into walls we’d forgotten about;
Walls choked high with greedy, red-thorned vines.

We feel the center waiting close-by
And we hear the labored breaths of others
Just around the bend.

A Labyrinth Is Not A Maze And A Maze Is Not A Metaphor And A Metaphor Is Not A Magic Word

As the day grows long, regret casts a shadow dark o’er yonder willow tree

I only wanted to become a monster for a little while;

With the easy teeth

And the crystal claws

Cutting through the cold fog night while

Misshapened intentions avoid the lick of angry torchlight.

For a little while only.

But not forever, no.

No, not forever, no

As the day grows long, regret casts a shadow dark o’er yonder willow tree