24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I grew up in Southern Colorado's San Luis Valley, positioned between the beautiful San Juan Mountains to the west and the breath-taking Sangre De Christo Mountains to the east. I am currently living in Utah. I am a father of four amazing children. My wife and I have two of my children with granddaughters living at home with us. I am now, the proud grandpa of three beautiful granddaughters. The two oldest call me Papa. A name that is more endearing than any other. I enjoy late evening swims, reading books, gardening, painting with the assistance of computer technology (GIMP) and taking hikes in the Utah and Colorado mountains and foothills. And of course, I also enjoy writing poetry and sharing it with my friends and family. I have had my personal struggles in life and poetry has helped me come out victorious over them.
I am home inside myself,
In the early sky.
When the glory of the sun
Peaks o’re mountains high.
Glowing light upon the grass.
Turning every surface gold.
On my porch, the mornings pass.
Joyfully behold!
I am home inside myself.
In the evening sky.
When the sun takes a descent,
Waving its goodbye.
When the shadows lengthen out,
Vibrant life explodes.
I am home inside myself
Walking gilded roads.
Text Prompt
Write about the place you feel most at home in.
Droplets of seraphic light
the camera froze up time for you.
Glowing abdomens so bright,
dance around the tall bamboo.
I would like to join in play,
dapple light along my way.
Little seraphs tipped with light,
see me through this pitch dark night.
Salvidor Dali
where is your paranoiac-critical mind
I need your method more than ever.
that state between sleep and consciences.
where abstractions grow like Van Gogh’s poplar trees.
Let me slip into your sleep-walking journey.
where reality fails to solidify.
and dreaming finds dimension.
just a few more hours of mental babbling on.
I am nearing the end of this daydreamer’s trail.
a road, never taken, to end well
and stretching, stretching beautifully,
In a grove of poet-trees.
Text Prompt
Write a poem to wake yourself up.
You bridge a pipeline to each tree,
and flower patch and unpulled weed.
You’re more than just a plastic snake
as water shoots out from your neck.
You are my staff my scepter sleek
when I into my garden sneak.
I need not build a grand canal,
Or carry water in a pale.
My aqueduct— three-quarter hose,
Small waterfalls feed from your nose.
With you, I travel back in time,
to Eden’s watered river prime.
Oh, flowing sapphire staff made clear,
A snake, like you, is welcomed here.
Text Prompt
An ode is a formal address to a person, place, or thing, not present. An irregular ode does not have a traditional form but the manner largely retains the tone and thematic elements of the classical odes. There’s a wonderful example poem here, called an Ode to Shea Butter by Angel Nafis.
Water sheathes a newly field
in glistening rippled light revealed.
The silver moon rides o’re the sea.
If I could, I’d voyage with thee.
As the wind picks up the sail.
My silhouette falls on the dale.
The water bellows up the dam
and pours itself upon the land.
Tending water like its sheep.
As though, they graze on oceans deep.
It’s the homestretch/hardest part. Keep going!
Text Prompt
Write a poem about walking at night.
Image Prompt
If it were me I would be;
The northwest side of a house.
Where I could shade
From the intensity of a noonday south
And the guard myself from the
overly dogmatic eastern past.
If it were me I would be:
a tree on top of a mountain.
Where I could stand alone and see
The city encroaching
But know it will never reach my deep-seated roots.
If it were me, I would be.
An ancient Sanskrit encyclopedia.
Where I could store for young people
All the lost secrets of the past, the prophetic visions of the future,
And how to live life best in the present moment.
If it were me, I would be.
The moment in time when it all began.
When everything was new.
And there were no old secrets.
No need to lie or hide the truth from the light of day.
Text Prompt
If you want a friend;
be still and listen.
If you need to hide from an enemy,
be still and listen.
Keeping still will conceal you.
Listening will reveal to you.
And you’ll know who’s your enemy
and who’s your friend.
Use this image and/ or the line it contains “…just be still, and listen” as a jumping off piece. Full credit goes to Shlokla Shankar.
Books and people are nearly the same.
Books just like people have lots they can claim.
Turning a page is like asking a question.
A person like a book has a secret confession.
Reading a book’s like listening too.
But reading is better cause memories misconstrue
A friend is a book and a book is a friend.
Book friends keep their words right up to the end.
A story can change when the truth seems too deadly.
A book keeps its story ironically, readily.
If I were to need to make a choice between two.
A book I would choose, cause it needn’t choose you.
Text Prompt
Use one of these quotes as a jumping off point.
“I am begging: Let me be lonely but not invisible.” – Natalie Diaz
“I stopped thinking about extreme grief as the sole vehicle for great art when the grief started to take people with it.” – Hanif Abdurraqib
“Books were safer than other people anyway.” – Neil Gaiman
Text Prompt
I lost the ability to smell years ago.
I miss the smell of strawberries.
like I miss my Grandma Emily.
I miss the smell of freshly baked bread
like I miss my childhood.
I miss the smell of Roses
like I miss how roses were once made for the eyes and the nose.
I miss the smell of dirt after a rain
like I miss growing up on a farm.
I need to take in a different breath in life.
I need to relearn to breathe.
I have learned with my eyes that I need to breathe only through my nose.
I have noticed that my sense of smell is returning
in just a little time I have started to be more mindful of how I breathe.
I never thought that breathing is a sense too.
I never thought that there is a right and wrong way to breathe.
Is there a more correct way to see, to hear, to touch, to taste, to move, to smell, to listen, to be?
Write a poem focusing on an experience through a sense other than vision – or a sense you don’t often use or ignore.
Contributed by Janette Rosebrook.
Image Prompt
Image Prompt
Liminal deity of gates and doors;
what are you keeping so safely as yours?
If I say yes, to discover your truth,
will I be happy to enter your booth?
Will I regret the decisions I make?
Will, there be gentler roads I can take?
Liminal deity, give me a peak.
So, I can know if it’s elsewhere I seek.
