24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
(Words to be used – “Thus, then, did, they, celebrate, the, funeral, of, Hector, tamer, of, horses”)
They did celebrate the life of Hector
And made a funeral pyre.
Achilles came against him.
Both vowed only one would be left.
Achilles’ rage would be unslaked
Until every last fetus aborted,
All women subjugated,
And noble Troy was razed.
Each would get what he deserved,
Of that we can be sure.
A lesson can be found
They honored Hector eleven days
And put Achilles in the ground.
There’s a place
Where all are treated equally,
No one’s disgraced,
And life’s not taken casually.
It’s beyond that far-off mountain.
The road is rough, long, steep
Through recognition and restoration
America doesn’t come cheap.
I’ll be a wringer of life-
Squeeze for all I’m worth.
Hold my days in a vise.
Die clutching the earth.
I will not go gently.
I will rage and fight.
For me there will be
No exit stage right.
When at last I am spent
To the grave, I’ve arrived
I want to scream out
“Wow! What a Ride!”
https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/47188-life-should-not-be-a-journey-to-the-grave-with
Earlier, the heat on the road
Made strange water that was gone
When we zoomed closer.
The air was like porridge
But the pool cured our lethargy.
Now the summer sun
Has at last given way
And crept below the treeline.
Fireflies caught in a bottle.
Two long years waiting
For this moment of bliss.
September is coming.
I let them go free.
Write an emoji poem they said
My mouth is a zig zag line
I have googly eyes
My eyebrows are off my face
And there’s puffs of steam coming from my nose!
Yea, I think I’m a moji on past this one.
I slowly come to, feeling well rested,
And treasuring every sweet dream.
I roll over, arise, and practically float,
Greeted by mid-morning sunbeam.
I slipper and robe, lured out by
The smell of breakfast made for me.
Leisurely, I read, drink and eat
An omelet: well-stuffed, juice and tea.
Sated, I take up pen to write
Dash off a hundred and twenty
Sure to be published manuscripts,
Journal articles, and poems aplenty.
The mailman brings bags of checks
As the neighbor gawks
And I struggle under the load
I hear him yell-Get a bigger box.
The whole earth is in a season of fog.
The descent into madness was abrupt.
Everyone, shocked, blinded.
A horror story of apocalyptic proportion.
Atlas must have drop-kicked the world.
cobweb tentacles
dendrite feelers
stretching, reaching
doing what they know
only through risk
can we grow
It was one month before
My last child was born
That you were no more.
We called her Erin Kelly
The last of your legacy.
Did I forget to mention
Her beauty defied comprehension?
But the lace and curls
Did not suit baby girl.
She transitioned.
Now we call her him.
And mom loved again.
It took a while for her
To accept your permission.
He was before he was born.
He could do anything
Except live.
He was infinity
Encased in a body.
I am that I am.
How can this be?
Two sets that never intersect
Are one.
Both this and not this-
God and not God,
Man and not Man.
Impossible.
I am that I am.
And yet…
The one who is.
The rule maker
Is the rule breaker
Nothing is impossible for
I am that I am.