24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
We gather our wits and utensils
We gather our thoughts gone astray.
We gather together to get through the night
A group of like-minded people
We laugh, we don’t fight.
Instead….we all write.
We write about dreams and foundations
We write about thoughts in our heads.
We write through the night until our eyes cross
Each of us a part of a whole
The prompts we will follow
Even when we feel hollow
We work together to give it all soul.
A million sparkling lights
I am one of them
dancing to the tune
singing off the tune
and just existing
it’s okay, isn’t it
we don’t need a
plan to live.
The seats faced backwards so medical personnel could face the patients…
I was not medical personnel;
I was a 6 year old child flying home with my Mother
On the only flight available
To get ‘home’ from home – RAF Wildenrath – quickly,
So we sat there obediently –
My phobias and me
Wincing each time the curtains were drawn back to reveal
One of the nurses to administering some treatment that was necessary,
Or providing pain relief – at least to some degree,
My hands clasped in a prayer that it would
not involve blood.
I was not medical personnel
I was a 6 year old girl
With – what at the time I had no way of being able to tell-
What was only later understood
To have been a Most Peculiar Childhood.
I don’t like slimy things
I am not that kind of girl
I hate bugs
Spiders are not our friends
Snakes can just slither on by
You can keep your lizards
Eels and Komodo Dragons
I don’t like to judge
But I do not want to spend the rest of the night
With the heeby jeebies.
Yes, it’s interesting
To contemplate what they are
Why they do what they do
How they adapt to their environment
But I am good not knowing
I don’t need to know
I don’t want to know
With all due respect
Keep your slime to yourself
Home in my pocket
Watch out
It’s got an alarm system
Gotcha!
Saving that jelly donut for later, dude!
Lifestyle float – breeze drift undulating undercurrent
unconvention creative veneer veil unruddered impulse,
perennial recess no respite gained,
restful erosion edifice strove at generations,
liberty restored in starvation dust bowl fester,
en-bond me in mechanistic systematic processes,
grant holy days in sweet brow labor contrast,
that blowing palm exotic wind frames,
and not replace to an unwarranted standing.
Maaaaaaaaaasks aaaaaaaaalll aaaaaaaaround,
Eaaaaaaach supposedly guaaaaaarding us,
Keeping us from haaaaarm,
Aaaaas it spreaaaads slower,
Curves lower,
For months,
We cower,
Behind
Our maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaasks
my voice plus one plus theirs plus yours plus one this is what makes a movement
Hot, sticky tar, harsh sun blooming gold
and slicking out sweat from me. My breath
gusts in and out, my face is bright, a red
exclamation point over red uniform,
legs long, burning rubber snaps
with leaded feet attached on thin, wobble string knees.
Hair swings, stirring sluggish heat as feet
pound in tandem with my heart, breath in, out,
and ahead pounds another pair of feet, another
set of lungs, and though we run, long-legged,
sweat-glistening golden girls, I breathe in,
we breathe out, steps slow but sure
for hearts, for feet and shaky coltish legs
and shuddering chests, the red tape
to mark another end to the long, long race.
A strange sickness of which there’s no cure
It starts with sparks and butterflies
deepening the lure.
Insomnia and daydreams follow
your mouth all dry and you can’t even swallow.
A crazy force of passion hits and gives you all the feels
Two bodies one heart , this sickness just got real.
Emotions board the crazy train, is this what it’s about
You get hit with the truth
You cannot love without.