24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
bangs and sunflowers
old worn-down paperbacks and ice-teas
itchy summer unrest in the shade
out into the sun:
now screaming and running and reverting back to the womb
and eating it up and embracing her
and falling back into the sunflower kingdom
holy matramony among ants
it was a june marriage
divorce came in october when she moved away for college
Recipe for Anarchy
Mix 1 and 2 in a bowl and let them develop during adolescence. Add 3 and 4 to taste, source from abusive authority figures. Grate in lots of 5, as it binds the other ingredients together. Wrap and store at high temperatures. Ideal for street consumption.
I see her in the puddles shimmering in the subway entrance
on the scaffolding of post-war apartment buildings
where she once held passionate court
Her voice echoes still in the bustle of Berlin,
through the prison bars that sought to restrain her
bold, antifacist, and lesbian.
Now I sit in that cafe
where she spent her later years
mourning the death of her young lover
I blow a kiss to you, Hilde Radusch
and the road you’ve paved for me
Greetings to my fellow participants,
My name is June and I’m a poet from Berlin, Germany. In the fall, I’ll be starting my senior year of highschool. In this time of turmoil I’m glad to be able to participate in the marathon for the third time, allowing for a glimpse of normalcy amongst general uncertainty. I’m also happy to celebrate my birthday during this years marathon and further celebrate taking part for the first time as an openly transgender poet. I wish everybody luck and much success in undertaking this taxing but extremely rewarding experience.
you give love a bad name
tempted me in sweet delusions
I did not hinder your intrusions
Twas your love that kept me sane
There’s so much you manipulated
From Heaven to Hell my life deflated
you give love a bad name
A child in guided steps will walk
Although there are rules it must obey
Its mind is free, its thoughts unblocked
Till adulthood fits it with great shackles and taketh freedom far away
While the body will not be restrained the soul turns grey and dour
Instead of life, just time will pass, hour after hour
While faceless men take infant’s ken
Begin the process all again
As scurried flocks of beauteous wren
Swirl around their tower
Concrete Blocks
Layers upon layers of ancient labor
They have obliterated a history
A cruel history
From which blossoms hope
Hope that envelopes gray in green
A koi surveys his pond
From emerald depths
Along the sandy ground
To sapphire heights
Above the surface
It floats freely through the cool streams
Taking in the kaleidoscope of a summer day
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
A subdued lunatic
Following the bloody riddles
Of his father
Stagnant in grief;
How rigid, yet emotional
How brutal, yet loving
An impossible man,
For one so tortured
Is destined to tear himself apart
The sun sits,
like an unexpected visitor
upon my porch and won’t leave
As it brings growth to the pot plants on the balcony
It obscures my view of the bay.