The best submissions will be published here.
E-mail to uphill@marathonpoetry.com
Slow down (slm)
Pretty runner girl
Must you go so fast?
If I could catch up
I could tell you a story
Or make you laugh
But not if you
Disappear
Over that hill
Out of sight
Forever
He was always a weird kid (slm's sister Randy)
I don't know why
my brother runs.
Surely not
because it's fun.
Untitled (Peter Alexander)
You awake before the dawn
Get on all your gear
it's a little cold out to day
but don't let that get in your way
Your running shoes are feeling just right
and you had all your carbs to fuel your flight.
This is your last LONG run until the Big Day.
So focus on your pace and make sure you stay in the race
Shoot for your PR and 26.2 won't be all that far
Ode to turning forty (Margaret K. Gates, Moscow, Idaho)
My running has not been the fastest in town.
At race-end I don't wear the glad victor's crown.
My sad lack of speed leaves me feeling quite down.
Oh, how I do wish I ran faster!
In races I never am found in the lead.
I just wasn't born with equipment I need.
I'm soon left behind by a lady with speed.
I try, but I cannot run past her.
But hope springs eternal--I long for the day
I enter my forties, though hair turns to gray.
In such a nice age group my feet won't be clay.
In thirty-five months I turn Master.
Desirable age group: as Master it's known.
Just thirty-five months and it then is my own.
When reaching that birthday I never will groan,
'Cause, then, I won't need to run faster.
My friend, Father Time's, creeping closer each year.
Decrepitness threatens, but I feel no fear.
When age comes upon me, then I'll give a cheer.
Seniority brings no disaster.
Oh, glorious thought: turning forty's my aim.
This much slower age group is sure to bring fame.
As soon as I'm older, I'll gain much acclaim:
They'll crown me with bluebell and aster.
I'll zoom up Pikes Peak and get checked in by Carl*,
Then turn at the top and descend with a snarl.
When finishing first, they'll award me with laurel.
Oh, glad happy day I turn Master!
* The late Carl McDaniel directed the Pikes Peak Marathon for many years.
Untitled (Maureen Mullins-May)
They said I couldn't run.
So I ran at night in dreams,
And chased myself all day.
At least that's how it seems.
They said I couldn't run,
But I knew that they were wrong.
I worked and slept, control I kept,
And I seemed pretty strong.
'Til one day they said I couldn't run,
I realized they were right.
And so I stopped and took a look,
Then thought with all my might.
And realized some running wasn't all
it was cracked up to be.
Because instead of running toward a goal,
I was running far from me.
So I got me some new sneakers
And I laced them up real tight.
Threw on my pants, my shirt, my hat,
And stepped into the night.
Where dreams are always waiting
For strong hearts to set them free,
unshackle fears, stoke raging fires,
banked down repeatedly.
They say, "Look at her run" now.
Mile by mile I make my way.
I'm getting back to being me.
Right here. Right now. Today.
My dream (Randi Hummel)
I'm at the starting line ready to fulfill my dream.
In the distance I hear the faint sound of the gun going off.
I'm in my world now.
The crowd can not distract me, but they're at every turn.
I see only the track ahead of me.
I hear the pounding of my feet against the ground - my rhythm - my focus
- my power.
I feel the track beneath my feet.
I'm free now.
The pain is there, but I don't let it in - it's my world.
How far I have run doesn't matter, only the finish line calls to me.
So many miles behind me, so few yards ahead.
My energy restored at the sight of my goal.
The finish line crossed, my goal complete.
I think to myself I just finished a marathon and fulfilled my dream.
Where to? (slm)
Are you running to the store?
Or to the bus?
Or to the rescue?
Or are you just
running
away?