Footrace poems on Hello Poetry

Kayleigh Emma Morgan Nov 2013

Tired

I am tired.
I am tired of not sleeping. Tired of trying to stay awake, because each time I try to sleep every bad thought and guilty feeling consumes my mind’s fatigue and internalises the stress into energy. My anxiety can keep my mind running all night long. I am tired of running without crossing any distance. Running without moving is an exercise my mind is too out of shape to survive. I’m tired of running away. Each step pounds the point home that I am a coward. Each pound pushes the earth down until it reaches the other-side, causing another step along the way. The eternal footrace soldiers on thanks to the anxiety engine.
I’m tired of fear. Repetitive worry exhausts every other thought from existing, so fear becomes the constant state. I’m so fluent in fear that I twitch at every sound and grip at every surface. My mouth is so prepared to scream that simple phrases of love and compassion, or even pleasantries and common courtesy involve intense concentration to untie my tongue.
I am tired of the silence. Silence from those who don’t have the seconds to spare to consider these issues, silence from the loved ones who refuse to understand, silence from the health professionals who seem to know more about pushing drugs then pushing information. I am tried of the silence I am shackled to by a condition that hides in thousands of names and symptoms.
I am tired of crying. I am tired of being unable to control a torrent of pointless salt and shame every time I need to ask a question in a train station or a bank. Countless scenarios with incalculable varying outcomes drain me, I cannot prepare for technology to fail, for accidents, for unhinged passers by or the end of the world. I cannot prepare for anything. I cannot control anything. Not even tears.
I am tired of not sleeping, I am tired of not waking, I am tired of running and running away, I am tired of crying, I am tired of caring, I am tired of dreaming, I am tired of trying… I am tired of being tired.

So ******* tired.

Muggle Ginger Jul 2012

Opportunity

In my life I have come to find that opportunity always wears a mask
A hidden door or path that we could walk and find adventure
or through the chance to perform a heroic task
Opportunity is not the girl who gives in too easy
Opportunity plays harder to get than that girl you have chased after for so long
In the footrace of life we are in constant motion
Looking for opportunities to ask Opportunity for an opportunity
Love, success, failure or risk
Broken hearts are just doors left cracked open
Illuminated by the light within showing the inside to possibility
Opportunity takes a broken heart, an open door, a creaky floor
And can send that person who will seal the cracks
An angel that can pass a wand or use some weird dust
to heal the scars other may have left when they ripped open your chest
On the way out, they didn’t bother slamming to door
They left it open for the world to see you crying on the floor
As their steps fade away and the creaks stop in silence
Opportunity has a chance to whisper peace to your soul
In the emptiness and solitude of a dim and dusty heart
Opportunity often sends a person to clean the mess and turn you into the very best
Puzzles are great for the challenge each piece embodies
Once in the sum you lose sight of that one that drove you to the edge of sanity
So take the chances that Opportunity gives you
When they come a piece at a time, put it in your pocket and hold on
Like a lovers sacred locket, the pictures emulate what we define as fate
Eternity is made one moment at a time

Antino Art May 2019

Free Ninjas

we'd wake up and play with magic
like any other game of pretend
bath towel tied into a cape
we'd approach an empty plastic top hat
wand in hand

we were tapping into an ancient power
that we barely even knew
we've played a superhero, Sub-zero
and now, a miracle worker
there was nothing we couldn't do

we'd climb trees to the summit branches
as high as we'd dare to go
we'd lower the hoop and dunk with ease
alley-oops, 360s
sometimes in slow-mo

there was nothing but room
to grow and explore
frontiers of the imagination
seized on roller blades with plastic swords

we'd tie skateboards to the back of bicycles
and Jamaican bobsled down the street
we were free ninjas in the 90s
off to adventures no one sees

we'd front roll down hills like hedgehogs
we'd scrape knees
we'd footrace to the stop sign and back
to pretend we're going faster
we'd kick clouds of dust in our tracks

we'd steal bricks from the neighbor's garden
and throw them into lakes to see the splash
we'd throw pebbles to see how high they'd go
or paper planes from the top of the staircases
one time, we jumped off:
it was a dare
we did it though

we unscrewed the air cap from the tires
of our enemies' parked cars
we clapped back with super soakers
the block was truly ours

we'd play until the streetlights came on
with more discoveries left unseen
and in the shadows while sleeping
we'd play catch with our dreams

#ninjas #90s

Lyn-Purcell Aug 2020

Atalanta

Swift-footed huntress
Life and death hangs on footrace
Love fierce like lions

New day, new haiku!
This one is for Atalanta, a courageous and fierce huntress (not be be confused with Atalanta, the Argonaut). Small wonder that she has been compared to Artemis, theyre similar indeed.
In fact, she swore an oath to Artemis, keeping to the two thing the goddess herself treasures other than hunting - her virginity.

She was more of a tomboy, other than hunting, she loved wrestling, riding horses and such. She gained a reputation for being so skilled and better than her male counterparts.

Theres so much story around this extraordinary woman of myth. Her father left her for death from the moment she was born and she was raised by a she bear, and eventually raised by hunters. She played a role in the hunt for the Calydonian boar was gifted the boars head and hide by Meleager, a fellow hunter and slayer of the beast who happened to be in love with her and was tragically killed by his mother. The reason being because he killed his uncles who were jealous that such a prize was given to her and not them.

Even from birth, this woman was badass.
Now for the main and popular myth!
Not only was Atalanta a skilled huntress, she was beautiful, grabbing the attention of men (who were intrigued and some probably wanted to put her in her proverbial place, so to speak).

So she said that she will offer her hand to the man who could outrun her in a race, but the losers will lose their life by her hand.

One man caught her eye, Hippomenes (aka Milanion or Melanion). He knew well enough to know he couldnt beat her in a race so he turned to Aphrodite to help. The Goddess of Love was outraged by Atalantas lack of interest in love, so she granted him three golden apples of the Hesperides before the race commenced.

As expected, Atalanta was beating him and he would drop a golden apple to make her stop and admire it. Some myths say she deliberately did so to give him a chance to win, haha! And win he did!

She did swear off marriage (oath to Artemis) but happily married him and gave birth to their son, Parthenopaeus.

But their marriage was shortlived and they were turned into lions...
The reason being because they were so consumed by their passion, that they actually made love in one of Zeus' sacred temples. Another myth states that her husband didnt honor his dues to Aphrodite and so she cursed them to make love in the temple.

Honestly, this is one of my favourite myths. I find her so inspiring as a character (and the fact that they apparently made love in one of Zeus' temples makes me laugh hard! The irony! The last line of the haiku is a reference to their...excited *******, haha! 😂😂😂)

Men didnt like that she was so strong and skilled as a huntress yet she stuck to her guns and proved herself, though she didnt really have to. Thats something we can all learn from as a whole to be honest. Even her name is rooted from 'atalantos' which means, "equal in weight"- a testament to her achievements and victories with men.

Man or woman, we are all true equals. None exceeds another. We all have our strengths and weakness in life but if we stay true to our resolve to be the best we can be, we'll be much better for it! ^^

Anyway, thank you all for growing followers, I'm forever humbled and grateful for the support🙏🌹💜
Here's the link for the growing collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/132853/the-women-of-myth/
Be back tomorrow with another one!
Much love,
Lyn 💜

#dailyhaiku #greek #huntress #mythology #equality #strength #courage #lion #race #wind

Derek Yohn Oct 2013

MacTurtle

Let us have a footrace to Scotland...
don't worry, you will probably win.
i am pacing myself.

It doesn't matter which path
either of us take: i know
i was high for the first half of the race.

Am i lost? Who knows?
But i will find my way.
This is how our stories go.

So hurry up, buttercup.
You might win, and then crowd watch.
but if i lose i will still find the Scotch.

Torak Dec 2014

Conundrum

Ever since I was a kid,
my father told me to keep my chin high
and to never waiver or stutter
he then proceeded to ask me if I ever heard a gun hesitated
they don’t.

Ever since I was a kid,
my mother told me to stand up straight
and flowers are the way to a womans heart
she then proceeded to ask me if your murderer would buy you flowers
they don’t.

Ever since I was a kid,
my teacher told me that academics was key
and literature could change the world
she then proceeded to ask me if publishers published suicide notes
they don’t.

Ever since I was a kid,
I told myself to keep my chin high
to never slouch
and to pursue literature like a never ever ending footrace
and when I proceeded to ask myself if living was worth it
the gun wouldn’t fire
I bought myself a rose for each year I’d been alive
and I published my own suicide note.

Graff1980 Apr 2016

Untitled

The time is eleven oh eight
The clock counts
The end of shift
To tick tocking far away
Nervous tongue
That splits the tip
Restrained to the point of pain
Fear that some vain *******
Who feigns righteous outrage
Will take away
That which enslaves
With meager wages
And the fool
Will not have the tools
To maintain this vain
Footrace
Slipping off
That track that
He hates
But believes
Is the only real way
To exist

Stranger99 Oct 2019

Slow Strangle

As I slowly strangle,
feet still on the floor.
Noose to tight to scream,
but not to ignore.

Not destine to stay,
or to live in this place.
I'm not in hurry.
life is not a footrace.

I am unable to grasp,
all my delusions aside,
I rest all my reasons
while cognition subsides.

Without my emotions,
to deaden the blows
will I make it through this
nobody knows??

Strangling so slowly,
I exist if i stay
but my life is so tragic,
that i would rather decay!!

In this nightmare, My dream
is troubled to see.
Why in the Hell don't I
just drop to my knees??

Bounded by which way to go
I CAN NOT  RUN, I CAN'T  PRAY
not any one reason
no reasons to stay.

Why even here,
I have been given no guide,
breathe or suffocate,
Have I already died??

sandbar Aug 2019

Burning Thyme

Exhaling, another night of smoke and nothing
songs on repeat, moving forward
at a snail's pace
amputation
footrace
We loose lace our lives into liver sandwiches
Prometheus laughs at us
how many times do we
have to touch the
hot
pan
It's one in the same, man, bandstand my soul abandoning the shell
crispy Cicada sound
swells
rushes
Luscious, this feeling of sitting here
over smoke, sticky
the tricks to be
really still
focus
****
It's a still captured in rhyme, passed on to time, taking
bits of thyme
burning
them
Swerve and send the oxygen rushing away
come out and play, warriors
come out
and play

— The End —