Hour 24 “The Moment Of Aware…”

Hour 24



“The Moment Of Aware…”


Neither the world nor its people

are as we WANT to believe.


Life has always had a price

…and people

– well, are not inherently moral prodigies

of self-less virtue

or otherwise – always fit to lead.


Whether that price was dictated

by an individual or group

OR self-appointed (regardless of sex)

Czar, Emperor, King, Pastor, Imam, Politician, et al

– it’s always another that pays the price.

Laws are NOT fair,

nor seldom just…

nor even applied equally.

And “THIS” is how this

(as all things) …ends.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023

Hour 23 “Hate And Howl…”

Hour 23



“Hate And Howl…”


Hate and howl …hmmmm – is that

or this –


now and then


how some hate …to howl

or how some hate?

But how about –

hating how some howl …to hate

and howl about how some howl – about hate

while they hate howls and hows?





(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023

Hour 22 “Children Have Always Been Cruel…”

Hour 22



“Children Have Always Been Cruel…”


Children have always been cruel – they haven’t yet learned their humanity or the “accepted” behaviors of their generational society.  After they HAVE “learned”, they BECOME that society and their current cruelties are accepted as the norm standard to be taught to the next children as the new standard of accepted behaviors.  The previous generations are left to experience the new “accepted” behaviors and contemplate the “failures” of the previous moralities that no longer seem to matter to anyone but themselves… and life goes on – til it doesn’t.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023

Hour 21 “…By Any Other Name…”

Hour 21



“…By Any Other Name…”


The petals wither,

fall and shiver – as each stem

begins to slumber.

Come tomorrow will awake

and dance with their life anew.


Each garden echoes

movement and song as birds preen,

and mates abound.

Their warbling throats fill the grounds.

The vibrant hues soon beguile.




(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023

Hour 20 “Renaissance Fair…”

Hour 20



“Renaissance Fair…”


The Garb …hell yeah, ’tis the Garb

and the “steel’ of yesteryear



heart and whim.


It means a different world

earned respect and civility.

Rule of Law and responsibility.

Making with pride

Living in the moment

existing beyond our sad norms

and reaching for echoes of freedom.


We wander the times

’til the new “thens” become our “nows”

and yes, we DO miss the smiles we leave behind

…as we exit the parking lots.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023

Hour 19 “Borne…”

Hour 19





What do you carry?

Where, why…

and it means?


I carry a life-worn stone…

It “said” hi to me

…from a box behind the vendor –

that box was closed too,

and when the vendor asked

I told him which stone

and of its being alone in its section,

and only THEN did he open that box.

And damned but he understood – and smiled.

…A rare one he is, was, may still be.


There was energy when I “touched” it.

And the voice has followed me through

the years… still does – and, ya know,

I still can’t duplicate its knowing laugh.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023


Hour 18 “The Price Of Admission…”

Hour 18



“The Price Of Admission…”



mean more than a moment’s pause

and careless laughter…

more than a thought-full glance

and the choice of left behind.


And yes, when we GO away

life remains

and people change

and move on in ways we never knew.




have no one …else…

to share what it meant to be them –


and they die

…die, in inches

in their dark and empty existence.


A letter …just a simple paragraph

scribed and sent –

and I didn’t think of it.

Didn’t do it.


You see –

I escaped,

found tomorrows,

touched my stars.


Dave …Dave didn’t forget me.

Didn’t move on, couldn’t …move on.


Too late, I found out –

He thought I was ashamed of him,

of knowing him,

and that I just wanted him to go …away…


So he did



Flowers just don’t work

when ya stand looking down

– at the ground



Ya quickly learn

your price of admission.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023

Hour 17 “Whispers…”

Hour 17






and my breath HOLDS.

Eyes startle,

wander, focus…

Search, I can see each movement,

each passing pause and restart.

I can hear each “tick” – feel …each… tick.

Sense as the second hand sweeps

round and around the face.

I FEEL the THUNK of the minute

as it falls into the present

and my heartbeat mirrors the intensity.



electric hum

the chime of the portent comes alive…

and my legs move

bedclothes rustle –

feet find their home within leather wraps.


Coffee beckons

and the kitchen table awaits…


Midnight, just another day in paradise.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023



Hour 16 “What I’ve Done…”

Hour 16



“What I’ve Done…”


I’ve wondered the whys,

questioned the hows,

followed the winds,

rode the seas and sailed.


Walked my talk,

wandered amongst the clouds,

cried for the innocent,

prayed for the guilty.


I’ve touched the face of God,

as I awaited so many ends of me.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/2/2023

Hour 15 “Lahania…”

Hour 15





Where to begin

of such ends …such ends.


A confluence of events…

and a town is gone.

Yet another place that ISN’T …anymore.


Fire on a California scale

worst of the century…

and the Media is just crickets.


Go fund me’s? – silence

Red Cross Pleas – silence

Doctors, supplies… silence.

Government aid and supplies?  Biden “No Comment”,

A final visit – a joke on how hot the ground still was.


The area is cordoned off by fence (newly emplaced) and curtained as well… a lot of money and labor went into that and victims still remain in and of the ash.  Mustn’t pause or stop or see or question any how or whys …or even to cry.  No journalists allowed, nor pics to view.  No memorials.  No answers …just crickets worldwide.


Maui… Lahaina a past capital

incinerated… ashes to ashes.


The school district reported 3100 children

sent home to be alone.

More than two weeks – 2,000 still missing –

and they’ve a name for each number.  Quite for real.


A FIRE so fierce barely bits survived…

And yet living weeds NEXT to melted trunks?


The power first off – yet in places stayed on.


No warning sirens sounded, no TV/phone alerts, no evac,

calls or orders, no bull horns or officials riding the roads.

The water turned off, police barricaded the two exits

and turned would be survivors back upon themselves

and those cars WERE immolated ON THE ROAD

where they stood – occupied by victims, DNA found.


115 the governor’s total and 335 still unfound

and yet 2,000 “missing” children – named and recorded

by their empty schools.  And the silence echoes LOUD.


Relief  was unallowed

– people snuck in what they could.

Victims jumped into the ocean

and the sea carried many away.

Tears whisper as the waves lap the shore…

for all the little souls – walking their island,

lost and forever alone…

and only the silence cares.



(C) Chris Twyford 9/2/2023



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