24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
hello swallows and bearded-tits
good morning garter snake and pelican
oh, great blue heron, you’re here too
good morning
I so enjoy being Snow White in your forest
though your River runs faster
than I can move
and that frightens me a bit,
excites me too
which is how I get into trouble, you know
A deep void of confusion
Of babbling voices and concerned stares
Looking inside myself
A wasted pitiful self
Deep in my reflection
What do I see?
Their whispers and smirks?
Their dirty remarks?
Their pulling and bullying?
No!
I see a girl
Oily and spotted and bore
Gangly and awkward and more
I see a girl
Hiding a smile in her freckles
Smiling with oil all splattered
I see a girl
Crying and bending and sore
I see a girl
Tall and proud
Flicking her hair
Her own self
To the core
There are those dreary nights
When one swears to hear tapping
Out there, or in my beleaguered mind
Fear, isolation, and other destructive blights
Or is it a ghost
After all, I lived and loved
Made glaring mistakes in my lust
those of which I should not boast
The radiance, beauty and dare
That voice so wild and untamed
The way she entered the room
like a Greek statue, arms aflare
I keep hurdling in anxious temptation
Is there a greeting, within my tortured soul
My heart beating, in a doomful cry
the pounding, I fear, is my final Damnation
There is a rise in me
some misty apparition of hope
So I did take advantage of my aging feet
and checked the door to see
Before me, a milky darkness
There was silence, yet a silky flow
Strange threads of white
teasing me, and my moral starkness
Two golden wings appeared, waving
and then turned to black
Speeding off or disappearing
I could not tell in gasping breathes craving
The story was told
but the end was in my room
As I turned to see a wedding dress
tattered and cold
On Friday, I read a lot of Zentangle poems. A zentangle poem is a blackout or erasure poem, a sort of found poem with designs made on the unused portions, instead of just blacking out the extra words. Read more about it on this post from Kat Apel. I have spent some time each of the first few hours of the Marathon on my first Zentangle poem.
The Poem:
After
After, write a chapter,
words and lines use summary.
Words describing a story,
a visual, a communicator
ready to ready thinking,
solution,
parroting powers of description
in writing.
It doesn’t mean much, haha! It was from a page in a booklet of After Reading Comprehension Activities I put together for my undergrad education students one year.
Dear Almighty God!
Dear Almighty God!
Dear Almighty God!
Safeguard us from this dreaded disease.
For those that are afflicted, grant comfort and ease.
Remove from this earth , this pandemic.
Remove from this earth, any epidemic.
For those that have lost their loved,
grant them strength to deal with the loss of their beloved.
For those that are no more,
grant them entrance to Your Kingdoms door.
For those whose livelihood has been affected
from financial ruin save them from being afflicted.
Grant them sustenance greater.
You who are our Provider!
O God Almighty!
O God Almighty!
O God Almighty!
To You do we turn for mercy!
i want to live there
where the air is crisp and clean
where cliffs kiss the clouds
I’m at that age
Where my bones hurt more than my heart
Or is it vice-versa?
Why dwell on that, I’m living life playing my part
I’m at that age
Where my clock runs… slower than theirs
Them I see whizzing by
With furrowed brows, entwined in worldly affairs
I’m at that age
Where sleeplessness doesn’t correspond to burning ambitions
I don’t count stars no more, nor try to reach them
The math I do… is more subtractions, less additions
But, I’m still not the age
Where the rising sun does not bring wonder
Where a tender touch fails to calm my soul
I’m human still, no I’m still not going under!
Long Run at Dawn
Just breath & thumping percussion of sneakered feet
the rush of wind whistles soprano
heart pulsing like steady music with solid beat
Running through morning mist, dewy lawns,
tulips unfolding to the sun blooming,
bleeding red into horizon at dawn
running into the day
At the tree convention
an agreement was reached
The sugar maple said
Let’s not throw our coins in the fountain, let’s plant them in the reeds by the river bank.
The silver birch added
I do not want to be a money tree, but a forest of promises.
The pin oak concurred
All in favor, please raise your branches.
I’ve waited so long,
Not sure how to feel,
Since I have yet to have been blessed as of yet,
I’ve prayed,
Yet, I wonder have my prayers gone to deaf ears,
Do you hear me?
Father, do you hear me,
The inevitable, plethora of emotions that arrives with such joy,
Deserving, desirable, deeply,
Rest assured, I am faithfully, hoping,
As I watch biologically watch the clock,
Tick… Tock.