24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Venus has seen us, she’s winking away
She’s watching and smiling, she’s going to stay
Until the night’s climaxed and slipped into day
And left all the bedsheets in stained disarray
Venus has seen us, she’s nodding along
She’s bright as the sun and she burns just as strong
Her heart’s full of joy and her voice full of song
Something’s right in a world where so much is all wrong
A pitch black forest,
Afraid to enter it,
But had to cross,
No matter what,
This time I won’t turn back.
Suddenly something starts to glow,
I am about to follow,
To find the mysterious source,
I keep walking,
One foot after another,
Not thinking much,
Like a curious soul,
I keep walking.
Suddenly, I crossed the forest,
Where is the glow,
In the hut across the road,
I saw a mirror,
It was me all the way,
I followed myself out of the dark and into the glow….
flickering led candles
sustained by lithium cores
illuminate bamboo buddha
draw out his features
carvings, faiding in and out of focus
consciousness, faiding in and out of awareness
There’s a single street lamp
Across the way
It’s orange glow muted
Through the condensation covered front window
Of my house
Sometimes it’ll go out
Or will be out when I return
From a night out
Flicker, flicker, out
Despite how annoying that is
I still find it beautiful
Late at night
My house dark for the night
The amber orange glow
Permeating the night
Couch commander
I know
You like to be in charge
You know how things should be done
You are free with your thoughts
Your also like to have a comfortable spot to share your thoughts with others
You are the couch commander
I know
You are used to being catered to
You are used to being served
You say we are all friends
But you are think of yourself as more
You think you are the queen bee
You are the couch commander
I know
You talk about equality and justice
About the marches you have attended
And universal human rights you believe in
Never looking at your own life
Never leaving your comfortable spot
Letting others make the coffee
Letting others get the lunch and clean it up
You are the couch commander
I know
You proclaim about social justice
But you never offer us the best spot
You are content to be served
We women of the hard chairs
We women who never sit
Also need our place in the sun
We, who are always serving, always doing
While you proclaim about social justice
Your bottom firmly on the couch
Will claim our due from you, the couch commander
Bette Low 2020
Although the darkness surrounds me
as my love’s been taken away.
I must recall all I’ve read
and what the promises did say.
Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet
and a light unto my path.
So for that, I must go on believing
Yes, believing that.
Oh no matter how the darkness is
morning noon or night.
You will brighten my way, guide me each day
as I walk by faith, not by sight.
by Del Bates
Psalm 119:105 ~ “Your word is a lamp for my feet,
a light on my path.”NIV
…Perhaps I’m lucky I don’t have one
And I have to find a spark,
A match,
A candle,
An electric torch.
Sitting here in near-darkness, all alone,
I’m forced to find my own lights, yet again;
To brighten up this room and my soul –
Since it’s not very many who are reaching towards me,
Not so many who can stand the wattage of my electricity.
It’s best this way, Plato said:
Just leave them where they sit
While they watch shadows move and play,
Believe that’s all to it.
Perhaps I’m lucky, after all,
Since my blaze would shine so bright
Particularly when the world-at-large
Is stuck so often in eternal night
Better, perhaps to keep my eyes attuned,
Better, maybe, to learn how they move
That I can find my way around
Be safe, as so many others do.
This explains, though, I think
Why I’ve been drawn to Flames
(It’s that…
Or, perhaps, it’s my phoenix-like claims)
Maybe I’ll wake, enlightened,
To a little more truth.
DARK.
Shackles of a house
Behind the bushes,dimly lit by a candle
A dark figure retreating.
The wind bellowing outside
Gushes in with a strong force,eerie.
Keep your lamps
trimmed And burning
The end of night is near
Only four more poems,
Music to our ears
Children don’t get weary
Keep your lamps trimmed
and burning
Echoing in my ear
Poetess with pen in hand
Draws near
Children don’t get weary
The finish line we’ll clear