24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A Renaissance Woman: As a child I won and/or placed high in poetry contests. In my teens I was in Advanced Placement Englsh. Published Writer, Produced Playwright.
ROBERT FROST SPEAKS
Robert Frost speaks to me …
Don’t you see?
He talks of promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Where I cannot relate,
At least, often in my fate;
Is the woods in the snow,
As I live in a city, ya’ know.
A snowy evening is truly swell,
I mean, if you can tell.
There’s magic there,
Even if I live in somebody’s lair.
Ah, to go for a walk . . .
Or a friend to friend talk.
In the woods somewhere,
Dark, deep and there!
In the right place this time! I am out of practice of posting on wordpress. May have posted in wrong place.
Watery Dream
I dreamt of water . . . again.
I dreamt of her . . . again.
It was flowing over my feet.
Hello Mom!
Come save me!
Before it rises above my head.
It never did.
It only rose knee high.
It was smooth . . .
gentle . . .
warm . . .
. . . it was her.
I could still walk through.
But where do I go?
I’d rather drown in her warmth.
Be enveloped in it.
Float on it . . .
Be in it . . .
Then to be without it.
Mom come back, please.
Not sure I a made it. As it’s not working. Damn! Bad planning this year.
We begin this journey in the best way possible.
At the end, of course!
For through the end of wish…
Is where manifestation takes place.
Thus, your journey is the end…
And the beginning of fulfillment!
You walk and live in the assumption…
that it is done!
This is the only way to manifest,
if you wish to manifest every-time!
And most do …
Then, you no longer need the question.
The land is green
As far as one can see.
High upon a hill
He stands almost still.
Behind the handsome loving one
Lit by the shining sun …
Is my castle true,
Red brick and lavender blue.
It’s a storybook home,
Safe from any storm.
This place exists in my mind,
And the seasons are kind.
Existing in this heavenly place,
And greeted daily by his loving face.
There’s only joy to behold,
Warmth when it’s cold!
The winds cool our place,
When summer is in place.
It’s my place in this fantasy land,
With him and me,
hand in hand.
Losing Earth was harsh;
First we lost the sun…
We had warmth, but did not know from where;
The moon had a shadow, and it did provide light.
Maybe it kept the warmth, or the planet was warmed…
generations ago.
It’s 2120, and one hundred years ago,
my grandfather was born into a virus;
he never got it …
neither did his parents.
They were lucky, safe.
Resilient, perhaps?
He told me, for years…
How Earth had light …
And light had no sound.
His parents were deaf,
so they also had no sound.
He taught me to hear inside;
as he was taught by them.
We will travel out, if we have to…
I wonder if the sun still exists?
Somewhere, it must.
For I know, if it is remembered;
it still is.
And I still feel it.
I was born the day before
the Moon Shadow phase.
I remember the Sun.
I feel I heard it.
It had a sound for me.
Not anymore.
I was in my cottage…
And this strange little bird
… popped in.
He told me, “Ain’t this heat like sin?!”
I looked at the treeline;
shaking the lethargy of
my quarantine.
There my porridge sat,
and ZOOM, the bird spat!
I saw he wore a mask!
And threw a bottle,
at the thing …
No lie,
it was that damned
Firefly!
Will two cups of this poison do?
Only if one cup is not poisoned?
Or if both are.
You go first!
Who poisoned them?
I thought you did?
Did you?
Not that I recall?
I don’t drink tea or coffee?
Do you drink poison?
Every time I watch Fox News.
Daddy left on a cold and harsh day.
It was February…
Susie left us on a cool and dry day.
It was November…
It feels unreal, as if we do not exist, anymore.
To explain his fact of life called death.
Daddy was expected to some degree.
Susie just turned 20-years-old.
I once saw her … a vision in an old woman on the train.
It was Susie, if she were in her seventies.
An age she’d never see.
She was wrinkled, only a bit.
The woman on the train.
Saggy, large eyes…worn face.
When Susie, only 17 years was diagnosed with cancer…
Under her left eye …
Re-diagnosed…
She had the same thing at age 5.
Perhaps, Susie always had old eyes…
… a look that children with cancer get.
A knowing or maturity…we cannot understand.
As they are brave souls … old souls,
before they are old.
Maybe.
Daddy was old forever, of course.
But when the cancer came …
he got older, still.
Cancer brings old eyes …
at least, the terminal kind.
The face gets grayish.
Maybe it’s just sadness.
Or, eventually, letting go of this lifetime.
Then, just this one day, in August. Ideally, and suddenly.
There was light! From them who had crossed?
They lead me to him. Alive, healthy!
He danced and he sang for me!
He did not know it was for me …
or did he?
He came out, with life in his step!
He was fast and the air was on fire …
that passionate fire!
We connected, almost literally …
Like the fire in his very soul …
His forward motion was quick . . .
I pushed myself off the wall, holding me up!
And I intercepted him in the middle of the room.
When he grabbed me
… for the picture.
That hard grab was strong
…yet gentle at the right moment.
Passionate and held me up,
as I swooned in him embrace.
Life became real, again!
I existed!
I came alive!
NOTE: In 1987 my father died on February 4th, and my young friend, Susie died in November. As Susie was on her death bed — on August 28th — I met my favorite actor, Tim Curry. This is the actual photograph.
If I jump off here…
Will you be there?
If I fly away though this path…
Will you join me on the journey?
If I jump off here…
Will I land beside you?
If I never see you again…
Will you seek me forever?
If I jump off here…
Please forgive me soon.
It was not you I left.
It was them.