24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Better to focus on bad things–
this record-breaking heat. Picture
a baby-boomer under the hostile sky
smashing his beloved scratched-up LPs.
Or this clever ever-evolving virus
whose one goal is our erasure.
What’d we do to deserve this?
Probably plenty, in our denseness.
And the racism with all its bulwarks,
institutionally made to seem eternal?
May it and all other plagues die.
I hugged you to say goodbye
eight thousand miles
compressed between
our beating hearts
I love you, I said
You said you loved me too
tears already flowing
I just want you to be happy, I whispered
and felt your shoulders stiffen
I kissed your cheek
I’m not blind, I let go
and you went away crying
What did you say to her?
our brother asked
What a sister needs to say, I told him
He nodded and turned away
What will end now
because of this?
Your abusive marriage?
Your relationship with your family?
You are already
so far away from us
even with each visit
you are more “other”
How do these stories end?
Divorce? Death? Reconciliation?
With children who will recount years later
the night I made their mother cry?
It is the beginning of the end
of something
Eight thousand miles apart
our two hearts beating
[Prompt 1: Write a poem about something ending.]
goodbyes are only
hellos dressed in the darkness
of our own demise
if we were not wise
we would address our goodbyes
and send them packing
leaving us lacking
the necessary skills for
the great leap forward
She prays in bed
as she is wrapped
in a blanket late at night
waiting for God to lull her to sleep.
My mom prays
as she greets dawn,
rising to get ready for the day,
thanking Him for being alive
and to be able
to see her kids again.
My mom whispers words
of appreciation
before she breaks bread,
before she takes a sip of tea.
She tells Him,
she is grateful for having food.
She’ll take our hands
and close her eyes.
She’ll start to pray
asking the Lord to watch over us,
to take care of us
and once again
thanking Him for letting us have jobs.
My Mom will always pray.
Cozied under covers and dark skies.
Heavy eyelids, sluggish eyes.
Wrists, weak, fail to hold the weight
that slowly tips, tips, tips.
Need to know what happens next.
Blink them open, yet
eyes slide closed.
Finally, book lands on nose.
Her smile
No longer
Lit up
The room
I don’t know if
I no longer
Saw it
Or she hid it from me.
Whatever made us happy
No longer
Made us happy together
We began arguing
Over the trivial
No longer
Making up with laughter
No longer thinking
How stupid we were being
Blaming the other
For being too blind to see
She accused me of not caring
I do care
I just don’t care enough.
No longer
Feeling overwhelmed
By a smile that could light up a room
It was not that she thought
It would be better
If we led separate lives
And it was not that she said
The love we thought would last forever
No longer lasted
It was the smile
She used when she said it
The End?
Ami (Gypsie) Offenbacher-Ferris
Is the end truly the end?
Or the beginning of something new?
And if the end is the beginning of something new,
Then is the beginning the true end after all?
Is the true end of all the end for all?
Or the end for some but not the many?
And if the end is not for the many,
Then who is the end of all for if not for all?
Is the end of all for all the beginning?
Or is the end for all only for the few?
And if the end of all is only for the few,
Then what is the end of all for the many if not for all?
Pondering
Day begins with the blank slate
all things are possible.
morning ablations, meditations, stretch of the body
the mind needs to settle, dogs need to walk,
neighbor’s fat chickens proudly strutting
and i have made myself a promise
only I will know if I will keep.
He rides off into the sunset once more
A journey filled with some regret
A trailblazer, of sorts, that rode shore to shore
He thinks back to those that he met
The dreamers, the doers, the crazies, the plain
The strangers, the divas, the friends
But come this day’s end, now never again
Will the road be where his life depends
His saddle shall be hung by fire at day’s parting
His boots by the door, at long last
His eyes shall point towards a future that’s dawning
With just memories of days in the past
Awaiting, his love, ever patient and kind
E’er grateful his journey concludes
For tho, she has always been on his mind
Distance oft marred their life’s interludes
The day and the cowboy shall ride off at last
Tho parting is not left in sorrow
His time from his love is now all but past
And he looks towards a brighter tomorrow
A place in the clouds, nestled warm and dry
Where, at last, he shall always remain
So much can be said for that life that’s passed by
As the cowboy rides home once again
I reverie you in a field of lillies, muted lavender hugs daffodils and daisy kisses
You amble beside a log wood fresh with balm rose Ivory blesh glide past periwinkles and scarless stripes
Floats in a meadow so everest it bewinds verneer millow stars gracefully nobs humbling silence birds and butterflies all around and about,
Honey bees and rain falls on down graves you’ll stay
You hand-crafted blankets babes
Soft fingers stretched
Finished yours,
With trimmers lace fur of your touch a must tricks of the trade now
O’retrieves more∫