24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
They arrived at dusk.
It was light
enough to see them gather
and crowd in along
the electrical wiring
above the ancient
Road house.
When the little old woman
fell, they swooped in on her doing
what carrion crows do, even
though
she’d yet to die
and begin the rotting process.
A house engulfed in silence
Empty sans for a lone crow
There is no murder at least
But it feels odd
As blue bird eyes stare
Right into my soul
And I step back
One step, two, three step, four
I step out of the door
And watch as the lone bird
Goes back into the shadows
Ready to emerge again to warn
Trespassers.
My Angel
An angel watches over me,
Inherited from my family.
My Grandmother almost went to space,
On the Challenger she was 2nd place.
My ancestors called the Donner party friend,
But split for Texas in the end.
My angel pulled me off a street,
Before a truck could have me beat.
The angel protects me every day,
And is just one reason why I still pray.
Introduction (after the ‘V’ speech, V for Vendetta)
DEE! A dastardly and different dream, derived of the desires of the dynamic,
DON’T think them a drudgery of dominant derivatives, distressed into demittance, a dame decreased to be deathly drab, a dull dirge on a darkened dawn
DO think them adroit in devices, in dreams, dragging the dispositions directly from the dutiful, demanding dedication to the divergent dyke of your desire
DRINK and devote a donation of time to domineering duke who digs into your disjunction, a deft, and dextrous deity
cw: none
One day,
when those gentle hands leave –
the window is open.
The canary sits at the edge of the window,
and feels the breeze.
The sun is warm;
the air is cool;
it feels, inside,
a song building.
It knows, though –
it knows better.
It cannot sing.
Still, it is nice to dream.
Haunt me
Rudy Shops Chicago For His Candidate
It was as if
Satan escorted the future
to the record store
And walked right past me
Giving me, briefly
The choices of
Infamy or freedom
As I stood closer
Than the security detail
Of a traveling mayor
Of America’s largest city
Where, certainly
I would be a hero to few
Even if all I were to hurl
Was profanity
Hour 19
9/3/2023
“Borne…”
What do you carry?
Where, why…
and it means?
I carry a life-worn stone…
It “said” hi to me
…from a box behind the vendor –
that box was closed too,
and when the vendor asked
I told him which stone
and of its being alone in its section,
and only THEN did he open that box.
And damned but he understood – and smiled.
…A rare one he is, was, may still be.
There was energy when I “touched” it.
And the voice has followed me through
the years… still does – and, ya know,
I still can’t duplicate its knowing laugh.
Chris
(C) Chris Twyford 9/3/2023
