24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Yes, see its in the air
Like a jet
Hanging without flair
Moving but still there
Its face is out of sight
Tired claws it has hidden
This vertical tarmac not needing
Closed wings, this is its destination
Greasy gas dropping
As if with the wind it was fighting
Surely its time bend has come
With what it has long waited for
To do what eagles do
Some puppets do too
But the day the chicken flew
Never saw it again
But good our ports are filled
With cargos it dropped for us
Dear Emma,
You are special and do not know this. Maybe not knowing is what maintains your speciality.
When I meet people, I subconsciously place them in a mold of your model, to see if I can find another like you even in a faraway land.
I see some, few though, you know everyone is special. Some even remind me of your harmless weakness, your excessive adherence to the golden rule, how you put the world before you hoping you can be the doctor.
I fear you have failed to grasp the poetry of life till now, maybe it matters, maybe it doesn’t, how helplessly honest you can be, basking in the pride of pure intentions.
I will love to see your angel and the beauty of joy she brings to you.
Hello everyone,
I signed up for the full poetry marathon in 2019 as a curious poet trying to see what I could make of it.
Writing a poem every hour was not just an interesting thought, I also wondered how one could come up with ideas either from a blank slate or from the prompts being released every hour.
Before now I had never been a fan of prompts, but viola, it held a magic I find difficult to explain. I found myself enjoying them and creating good content (at least in my opinion,😃😃).
Though I wasn’t able to complete the marathon then as I was ill, I am already looking forward to the 2022 poetry marathon to give it all I can.
Strike it with the stupidity of truth
Break it with pure love and soft tact
Don’t let hate touch it,
It will poison this medicine, with
that solitary spice of bitterness
Do it with care and yet every part be intact
Break it in the morning or when the sun is shining, that is in the noon or when the moon is singing – this cut may never be timely.
It could be slow, it could be quick.
Break it in silence or with words
for there may be no language the heart cannot know
nor sign it cannot perceive.
You know there are times the world is noisy, the streets and the gardens
and the heart will hear nothing; the heart will hear nothing and the heart will learn nothing
and yet the painful medicine awaits it
know this!! No one likes stupidity,
stupidity breaks the heart
yet everyone is a heartbreaker or has been a heartbreaker, as a baby or maybe a granny
Do it with hope and faith, not fear and despair
It can be on a Monday, Friday or Sunday
It could be a sacred act, it needs no sacred day
This secular art, a spectacle for everyday
Break it with water
Than break it with wine
Yes, break it with lowly loyal cassava
Than with grilled chicken spines
Break it because it had to
Not because you want to
A heart is no toy
Break it, for though there may be chemistry
Oxygen and nitrogen compel no synergy
Break it not as a habit
Though Calvary’s cross was a gambit
the lion became the lamb
the wounded was the eternal healer
Take it not to the mountains nor slip it to the valley
Break it on plain ground, let it on a straight path
Lest it comes down crashing and it’s not known how to mend it
Break it in weakness
Break it on the fence and then claim innocence
Yes on the fence
It’s then its choice if it falls left or right
Break it though you are sorry
Free it, but not for money
And this dreaded act
May be a healing art
No! No! No! don’t break it
Why should you break it
Like a medicine you shake
And yet will not take
Break it
God will mend it
Yes He even breaks people
Body and soul
Yet He makes them whole
You need not be smart my love, you need not be smart
You already have my heart, you need not be smart
You need no extra wisdom
For love itself is wisdom, I mean the highest wisdom
Your friends may say no
That I will lead you like a fool
Sarah did not say so
And she was not a fool
In this sport of life
On the spot of love
Shall the ball be my heart
There is no puzzle to solve
You need not be smart
The world is ours, you need not be smart
Just give me this heart and see
That you need not be smart
They know, we don’t
What do they know
But to find fun every time, everywhere,
any place and anyhow
unassuming masters to the art of forgetfulness
so resentment and malice must suffer
for they are heavy
but joy is light, it is flying
time waves its wand
viola, it’s done
life becomes serious
everyone must be careful
if you will fly balloons
it should be hot
our lives are stories