24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The Cookie jar
It is not an easy feat
Being away from the Cookie jar
My mouth seeks its fullness
My eyes lust for its presence
I try to restrain myself
But find my legs walking towards it
The Cookies in the Cookie jar
It will be the death of me
As my waistline grows bigger
And I fear, my blood sugar
My tummy bulges
As I cannot let the Cookie jar rest
My hands continually rummaging in it
For the tasty ,creamy and crunchy cookies
Text Prompt
Write a poem that repeats the same line three times, and then end on a variation of the repeated line. It could be a little different, or vary different, depending on what serves the poem best.
Eversince the onset of Summer
temperatures have risen
days are hotter
humans animals insects
all are restless
water is scarce
days are hotter
sweat pours like a river
no ice to make one shiver
cockroaches appear,make one quiver
days are hotter-
Summer is real,it has appeal
lemonade can help to cool
pass the time relieive the stress
the rich have the swimming pool
for others it is the beach or a stool
under a tree, if lucky to be in context
hotter are the days,hotter they will be.
–after River by Esther Kinsky
A middle-aged German woman
lives on the outskirts of London.
It’s an unattractive area and
she knows no one. Eventually,
she befriends the storekeepers
in her neighborhood. Mostly she
walks the tributaries of the great
river. She loves taking pictures with
her Polaroid camera. I, too, once had
a Polaroid I was fond of. I read
the first chapters ecstatically
on a flight across country to
meet my new granddaughter. On my
return flight, picking up where
I left off, the book had suddenly
hit the doldrums. Who changed?
The author? the reader? Perhaps
the novel’s milieu didn’t reward
the woman’s explorations with
any intimacy. In any case, my
interest returned and I finished
the book. Every once in a while
I wonder–where did the passion go?
I think I know.
Then the black holes that we were (admit it)
collided and pulled each other apart
but you know how it goes with forces of nature
or stubborn personalities
they never really win
so I was shot out
in a gamma burst of an argument
lightyears and lightyears
and eventually I got to such a place
where there was nothing
a darkness
so abyssal
and colossal
utterly encompassing
and there was nothing for me to feed on
so I shrank
compacted to infinitude
You know they say the universe started this way
so small and weak
and then it exploded one day
Look what it made.
An orphan left on a doorstep
his magic hidden from himself
and the world
Thrives with careless non-care
From those who should love him
Wakens to the wonder of wizardry
Befriends the outcast and lonely
who help him defeat a deadly enemy
Finds the stone he did not seek
Chooses honor over power
Returns to the mundane life
that keeps him safe but
Is not his home
This is just the beginning of his story.
The expanse of the Atlantic,
A tin house like an aberration.
The cabana to change your clothes,
considering how to hide
your car keys when you walk
out to the ocean.
A sinkhole, a marvel of nature,
human negligence in Surfside.
We used to drive down to visit
some private school boys there.
Ronnie, who would stroke my hand
like a kitten, and called me rhyming
nicknames in a singsong voice.
Interviewed after the disaster,
Moshe Candiotti said “the building vibrates.”
He imagines its must be what an earthquake
feels like. Running down the stairs, Moshe
sees the other side of the building
Already in ruins. Ronnie were you there
at the Shul of Bal Harbour, sorting
donations for survivors, not worrying
about where to hide your keys?
A tin house like an aberration,
the expanse of the Atlantic.
Dear Reader:
We are about to take you on the greatest and most important trip of your life-
bringing and dreaming your soul home, tonight!
Do you dare to dream and
surrender to sleep?
Race away from Anxiety or
stay and
fight the foe named Fear?
Can you slumber easily my dear?
Shamans once returned our-
Wandering Souls
Venturing inward to make us Whole!
Do you believe in
the Power of Dreams?
You alone hold the key
to Unlocking your Fear.
Mounting Tensions
make Anxieties real
Playing Villains in dreams
and increasing your Fear!
Blocking the safe haven of
abundant dreaming-bringing visions that
leave you screaming.
Resolve the trauma
Resolve the pain and,
fulfilling dreams will visit you again!
Dear Readers-both young and old.
Embrace your power-
choose to be bold!
(Summary of Dreaming the Soul Back Home…by Robert Moss and poetic summary by Ingrid Exner, 2021)
POEM 08
Scout and Jem spent that summer smothered in the heat and sweltering indifference of consuming hate and racial division.
One man, their father stood in the gap and represented innocence, never needing to lie.
He garnered a certain respect from many, but a lie, a vicious untruth told to combat shame and lustful desire killed the innocence he sought to protect.
The children were attacked and broken nearly strangled by that three strand cord of hate, ignorance and fear by the father of the Lie.
For he knew the truth and it boiled inside of him. Jem took the brunt of the assault as Scout scrambled home to fetch brave Atticus.
That fateful day that may have been bathed in the blood of the children, saw the Lie’s father fall to a fatal blow dealt by a familiar stranger who came to their rescue.
Boo saw the duty and the deed needed and innocent himself, leapt from the shadows to perform it.
As matter-of-factly as he did placing toys for Jem and Scout in the hollowed out hole of an old Mulberry tree in the yard, Boo standing behind the door, had been the
One to gift the children their lives with their innocence still intact.
A summer that started with rabid madness ended in peace and comeuppance.
Someone I wasn’t before I came here
imagining another version from this place, of myself
or someone else entirely
how would I be different
would I like the parts I have now or new ones
would I hate the sight of an American tourist traipsing through my world
my other life unknown.
Mitch Brown
Hr 8
Poetry Wars
The plans were stolen, our hopes now awoken, our heroes must evade
The way is fraught, with plots and thought, our enemies to evade
Then captured short, our ship a fort, the princess to defend
The evil lord, has come aboard, this looks to be the end
A brilliant plan, with hopes that span, a galaxy and an age
The plans to send, the mission to mend, take to a distant place
A mechanical steed, will do the deed, on to a distant place