Joy unstoppable (Poem 21)
Joy joy down in my heart
Joy joy rolls like a cart
Joy joy unspeakable joy
Joy of peace joy of God
Fills my heart
All rights reserved copyrighted(c)2020 Roxann A Harvey-Lawrence
Star-rise
He looked out, across the ocean
Beyond the crashing waves
For long, silent minutes
While the gulls cried around him
The sun glinted in his blue eyes
The day was nearly done
Oranges, gold and crimson bled
From broad bands of sky to sea
But it wasn’t that he’d come for
Another sundry minutes
Found mauves and purples
Turn to black
Flecked with dots of purest white
Only now did he take his rest upon the sands
Greeting the velvet ebon night
With the serenity of a familiar lover
A STAIRCASE IN THE WOODS – Hour 23
A STAIRCASE IN THE WOODS
Rip Van Winkle still sleeps out in the woods
not everyone develops an aversion to trauma
or Patty Hearst would have a different story
nowadays folks just think he’s on something
another lonely soul wandering until their death of despair
no hand reaching out to pull anyone back from the Other Side
“he ate faerie food himself,” they cluck with false sympathy
“tis a terrible fate it’s true, but still, twas not I who bade him wander
in the deep dark woods so late and all alone”
we can change the story a thousand times
palette-swap your villains to sell sensationalized habits
blame the pain to disregard the warning
they’ll say “folks know better in this part of town”
as he staggers by, haggard with a clean new bottle
back into the dark forest to search for another way
hoping he’ll find a staircase from nowhere to nowhere
standing alone in a dappled green clearing
so he can climb up into another dimension
and finally come unstuck
The Dark Angel
Have you ever wondered how
You sleep, dream and think
All your dreams were reality?
I came to you in the body of a dog,
You chased me away.
I came to you in the body of a chicken;
You plucked my feathers, and
Made a stew out of me.
I’m the life force within beasts
And humans. You glory in my skin,
And rejoice in the profit you make.
I’m coming for you all.
A Visit from St. Verner
‘Twas the night before printing, when all through the Rails
Not a member was scribbling, not even those with net sales;
The final drafts were laid on the tables with care,
In hopes that a publisher soon would be there;
The Railers were tossing all askew in their beds,
While visions of Robert Scott’s The Corridor danced in their heads;
And with his dog in a ‘kerchief, Bobby Dorr tossed buck-naked,
Both dreamt, so content, on the journey they had taken.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
Bobby sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
On his way to the window, he tripped – what a klutz –
Then struggled too long propping it open – what a putz!
His eyes finally fell on the breast of a hooker below,
Bringing lust to his loins – oh, how he wished he could go!
When what to his wandering eyes did appear,
But a broken-down Buick and a schmuck screaming for beer!
That fat drunken bastard so reeking and sick,
Bobby knew in an instance; it must be that prick.
More vile than venom, Dutton’s curses they came,
As he vomited and shouted, for he had forgotten his name:
“Not Robert! Not Gary! Not Garrett! Not Mergler!
Oh, come on now, damn it! It’s not Victor nor Verner!
Just to lay on my couch! Just to find my front door!
I’ll buy a book, any book – hell, I’ll buy two, three, or four!
Just get me home by the mornin’ or my wife’ll have my ass!
But if she meets us at the door, you’d better save your own ass!”
Stumbling up the sidewalk, Dutton’s curses still flew;
Towards his car filled with booze, that fat drunkard spewed.
And then, in a twinkling, Bobby heard the car start;
Oh, how he had hoped it was just that fat bastard’s fart!
As Bobby shook out the cobwebs that were still hanging around,
Down the chimney Dan Verner came with a bound.
Dan was dressed in black latex, from his head to his foot,
So his clothes were not tarnished with ashes and soot;
With bundles of contracts strapped to his back,
He looked like Quasimodo carrying a sack.
His eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, yet his breath smelled like sherry!
He winked as he wiped the sweat off his brow,
And grinned hard at Bobby before whispering a vow;
The stump of a cigar he held firm in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a kind gentle face and washboard-like abs,
For Planet Fitness had gotten rid of his flab.
He was chiseled and solid, a man made from raw steel –
Bobby gasped when he saw him, before starting to squeal.
One flick of Dan’s wrists and his biceps did flex,
But Bobby just stood there admiring Dan’s pecs;
Dan spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And he fixed Bobby’s typos while berating the jerk.
While handing Bobby his bill, a sarcastic joke he crowed,
Dan gave a nod of his head and out the door he strode.
He sprang to his Porsche, to his publisher gave a whistle,
And away they both drove out of town, quick as a missile.
But Bobby heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight—
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good write!”
God’s Love (Poem 20)
Do you know the love of God
Do you feel is love so grand
Do you see the love of God
Do you understand his love so grand
God’s love is unchanging
God’s love is unconditional
God’s love is unending
God’s love is self sufficient
God is love
God is kind
God is patient
God is caring
Let his love fill your heart today
Let his love fill your empty space
Let his love breathe in your life
Let his love be your guide
All rights reserved copyrighted(c)2020 Roxann A Harvey-Lawrence
hour 23 poem
Tucson Summer
Daily sun rises from the East.
Light and heat beast.
Rise together.
Last forever.
One hundred thousand lux you swore.
Bright sky and more.
Will blind your eyes.
While skin deep fries.
One hundred ten it is today.
Shower and spray.
You need to cool.
So find a pool.
23. How has life changed since the pandemic started?
Covid
Waiting in lines galore. It is no fun to go to the store.
The rules change every week, if not daily as the virus piques.
It’s not only frustrating or aggravating. It is out of self preservation that we battle the lines to hunt for food. While the essential worker must battle another front line.
Sickness and covid complications loom in the air and, yet there is no fresh batch to relieve them from their dedication to the cause.
Only endless pain of seeing more of the same. Our hands are tied or so we feel. Now even the hug, the human touch, has now become too much. It feels strange the embrace, like the handshake has become a foreign custom that we question and hesitate to return.
A Wish # 21
This is how we survive these days
Inside phones and our minds
Decorated with sunflower stickers
Laughing about the days of last week
Falling asleep mid conversation
Wondering where our friends from old are
Sending each other songs we go back to
Checking in on tired souls
Cleaning up rusted guitars that don’t sound right
Reading lines that stop making sense
Painting papers with colours mixed in two teardrops
Understanding how limited words are
And what distance means
When I try to reach out and hold your hand
Knowing how blessed we are to stay home
With memories of the past
and how it felt when it rained through the trees
and the butterfly that died sitting on my shelf
the book I forgot to bring
in my hurry to find home
mourning what will never be
words unsaid in unseen palaces
the photograph I didn’t take because I believed time would stay
Wishing you were here
As grief surrounds the sky
While I watch the birds go home
when the sun sets from my balcony.
Thankful for You
(a combination of prompts 16 & 21 for Hour 21)
By Sandy Lender
Did I tell you today how awesome you are
How much I admire and adore you
Did I tell you today how cute you are
How your every movement makes me smile
Did I tell you today your voice is a song that brings joy into my life
How each mutter is adorable
Did I tell you today how you delight me
How your presence is all I need to get through
Did I tell you today how thankful I am
How glad I am to have 19 years of memories of you