24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
~ Using the text prompt ~
Styled as an Acrostic.
N ot
O mnipresent;
R eality
M ay
A lternate
L argely due to privilege(s)
”not omnipresent – reality may alternate; largely due to privileges”.
Quotes:
1. “Normal is an illusion. What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly” [The Adams Family, Mortica]
2. H.J’s views (#authorHJ): LINK
Have you ever touched a frog?
They seem so peaceful.
Do you think frogs like being pet?
I’ve heard they keep spiders like we keep cats.
Do you think, gathered at the frogpond,
The frogs pull out their wallets
And coo and croak over tadpole pictures?
Laugh ribbitily at spiders causing trouble?
Boy I hope so.
Will you promise me,
that you will love me, unconditionally,
that your love will not abstain,
as how the full moon does wane?
Will you promise me
that as I age and become less of a beauty,
that you would still love me beyond reasons,
and not change, as the four seasons?
Will you promise me
that no matter what the problems may be,
that through troubled waters we will navigate
so that our love will never sink and desisipate?
If by the above , we promise to abide,
then in each other’s hearts, with passion we will reside.
There’s no place like home
With a coffin of glass
In a magical forest
Where they grieve as they pass
For knowledge is poison
And love was a lie
There’s no kiss to wake her
Just tears left to cry
For each life she touched
Someone broke her soul
Until she ate the apple
And wanted to go
There never was a wicked witch
Just a hunter for her heart
True love’s kiss doesn’t exist
But they never tell that part.
~Mandy Kocsis©2021~
tongue tinged with sarcasm
loathe to remove her mask
(no, not talking about the pandemic)
sick
and so tired
of people saying
That’s the way the world is, honey.
Integrity
a hollow promise
for tomorrow
always tomorrow
Today
a steady panic
of almost-enough
too late
and Sorry about that.
Sounds normal to me.
Twilight has exited
Partnered with the shy moonlight
Release to the Night
"norm" becomes "morn" when we scramble letters together, a new beginning coming each morning with morning owls and train whistles again, again, again, again, and again "morn" becomes "mourn" when we let rhymes enter our lives, and we mourn small freedoms and inevitably massive, humble human lives we loved again, again, again, again, and again "norm" morphs into active "norming" as we scatter, zoom, plan, pivot, engage, unmute, correct, revise, test, evaluate, assess, restart again, again, again, again, and again "norming" becomes "morning" once again as we pick up our lives and elevate each other with arms that stayed apart too long we must begin anew in this morning as we create our own normal again, again, again, again, and again
We are one note, he says.
It began in the Alaskan tundra,
strolling together under the midnight sun.
For our anniversaries, vacations, and weekends,
we’ve hiked up to spectacular views,
followed trails in the rain forest,
backpacked in western mountain ranges,
and explored Utah’s canyons.
Every evening in the spring and summer
we circle around the mile block,
up the hill to see the Canadian mountains,
and back home together.
The singular tone reverberates,
the simple movement ties us together,
beyond any ring,
more than any vow.
Winding roads fade away,
As the journey begins,
In the rear view mirror.
The vanishing mirages
Swallow the distance
To the destination and
The miles make markers.