24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
As she stepped out
into the woods
her dreams came alive
flanked on both sides
by verdant green
and pool of water in front
A remnant of memory
captured by her fleeting emotions
whether she chose the dream
or the dream chose her
Hour 3
@varenyas
Neither Here Nor There
If it’s neither here nor there,
then where?
Can it exist,
when it’s neither here,
nor there?
If it doesn’t belong here,
and it can’t find a place there,
is it everywhere, anywhere, nowhere?
Unquenchable
Is it death or is it life?
Where summer ripens at all hours?
Then if we lost our way what should we do?
Their hungry thirsty roots?
Gone deaf and blind?
How should it cloy with length of use?
Source: Rossetti, Christina G, and Martin Ware. Goblin Market. London: V. Gollancz, 1980.
Method: It is a ‘questions only’- algorithm poem
Write down all questions present in the poem, select among them of your choice and frame them as you want.
The hourglass is breaking
And I still don’t have a line
That fits this prompt’s parameters
Repeating 3, 4 times
You should see the balls of paper
Cluttering my floor
Full of lines that repeat 2 times
But couldn’t, anymore
Well, shit, there’s just 3 minutes
3 tiny grains of sand
I guess I’ll have to go with this
Or show an empty hand
And I kind of like this metaphor
This self-portrait definition
That, even with just seconds left,
I’ll somehow complete my mission.
~Mandy Kocsis©2021~
No. 3 – Ties
They were in the
silent phase,
for the last month,
the brother and sister,
after the fight.
Neither remembered
the cause, just the words.
Sister was older
and keeper of rules.
She decided when
to talk again.
Brother waited in
sullen, angry,
silence.
Sister got a letter,
an admission to college,
800 miles away.
She’d be gone
in two days.
Something cracked inside
brother.
He rode his cycle
for one hour.
100-degree heat,
on a summer Madras day.
Moore Market sold
second-hand books
all he could afford.
Pouring with sweat and breathless,
muttered for the train
and gave to sister.
She looked at the tattered book
her favorite author,
and muttered in turn.
Teenage siblings
do not hug.
On the 24-hour
train ride,
she cried each time,
she opened the book.
As soon as her pupils glanced me way
Mine dilated to let in her light
With one look
I melted for her
Her fingertips grazed my skin
And the molecules shifted between us
With one touch
I melted for her
She gave me tongued promises
On parted lips
With one kiss
I melted for her
Smoke and ash
Hearts on fire
With one I love you
I burned for her
Sit down pull up a chair and listen
as I share these stories with you
Some will make you laugh
others will make you cry
Some will leave you wondering if
they are all just a bunch of lies.
Verbal conversations stoke
the fires of inspiration
the dedicated listener
picks apart every piece
of the words being deciphered.
Transcribing each syllable
and soliloquy being said
like a court stenographer
writing shorthand.
Opinions being giving on the topics
cast in real time on the internet
by the host and possible co host
of the show can quickly sway
the public’s perception of whatever
subject matter discussed.
Michellia Wilson
Poetry Marathon Hour 4 (2021)
A HUNGRY LIFE
My heart beats
in rhythm of an intense hunger,
on the banks the willows
share their ruffles hovering over
a moving lake.
Only for admirers does the
glistening pond lap against
a grassy edge on a cold noon.
I know this place well –
life in the water mills around
the murky water
and an occasional Heron glides
easily over the platter of fish
below the glassy cloche.
Never, in my heart, is life just enough-
The breaths I take above
the water falls full circle
with the trees and the water.
Life is hungry.
I just got back from the lake
Hurrying to not get back late
My words are few
But I made it, schew…….