Marathon-edit 2 (tectak, ellijam, Bena, billy)

[billy]

it's always good to see poets haring an aim, be it rhyme or meter or something else. here the meter and rhyme seem to be what you're aiming for. at present the poem as a whole feels forced shoehorned in to fit both criteria. [though the meter does fail in places. [count the last few lines to start with]] the next aim should be to make such poems feel like they naturally fit, even if it means changing the meter in places. i think a verse format, even couplets separated with line spacing could add to the poem.
not a bad effort.
Incline they race to love and gratefulness
that rugged roads lean not to emptiness.
Though fervent flesh facilitates our need,
truth lay somewhere on the road we'll bleed.
Some run the race in flesh with heart ad soul, [just an example]
incline needs something added to make it work better. a suggestion would be [inclined]
watch out for repetition and cliche. [cliche can hide so good you miss it for ten edits and then it pops up and you think "how did i miss that"

Marathon
Incline they race to love and gratefulness
that rugged roads lean not to emptiness.
Though fervent flesh facilitates our need,
truth lay somewhere on the road we'll bleed. road could be changed
Some run the race in flesh with heart ad soul, flesh has already been used, try something else
where spirit and mere chance define the goal.
In paper pants we waddle, then we dance, i think this line is superb, alliteration being just one of the devices you use.
then speed to our next date in velvet pants.
We climb tall mountains shooting for the stars
and stroll seductive gardens full of scars.
Behold the ripened grapes upon the vine
that to our lips sweet tastes the virgin wine.
The morning sun shines on a face of grace
while Eros sings his songs to plead his place.
Keeping pace, eternal time unfolding,
our days of flesh are racing to eroding. flesh
Someone is chasing you, you look around,
it's your shadow's desperation to be found.
Escape from self, the thought, where can I hide;
my flesh of stress resists, my mind declined. flesh again
Cold rain beats down a long and deep dark path,
a bolt of lightning strikes with satan's wrath.
But God may come, to dispossess that season,
by grace, our love and gratefulness a reason.
g.e.Kaye 3/18/15