24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
i wish i was elsewhere
i wish i was anywhere
i wish i was home
i wish i was in the river
i wish i was asleep
i wish i was awake
i wish i was drunk
i wish i was sober for the rest of my life
i wish i was away
i wish i was here
i wish i was with you
i wish i was alone at the bottom of the sea
i wish i was… anywhere, anything, anyone
other than this
prompt 18 hour 18
thanklessgiving
picking turkey carcasses from garbage cans abandoned in alleys dirtier than the shirt stretched over his thinning frame, he prayed for something not decayed enough to poison him again on this thanklessgiving, again, alone but not alone with the others who sifted through these same cans looking for food or something to keep the gnawing from eating the lining of their stomachs
again.
why was charity reserved for the Christmas season when no one cared about any of that anymore? where was the gratitude for having when others don’t? he growled into his blackened finger nails, full of more to eat than the scraps of rotting something like food not good enough for those who thought nothing of tossing food – thoughtlessly disregarded, like he was, too…all over a little thing or two to make him feel anything else but whatever it was he used to feel when those other feelings came back
again.
thanks was to be given freely for all having. he knew he was grateful for having what he had when he had it, whatever that was…places where he could go and be treated like a human being with a name that didn’t sound like “crack head”
again.
he put the lid on the can and walked away, remembering the days when he made turkeys out of construction paper tracings of his hand – days when he could still be anything he wanted to be in the realm of possibility beyond this thanklessgiving.
© r.l. elke
When you’re stranded at sea
or lost in the woods,
The earth your feet are placed on
will serve for greater good.
“Your land knows you even when your lost”
Water it with care no matter the cost.
When you’re short of breath, tired and low
Trees are the kindest things I know
Sharing their oxygen, giving you shade
Even go and Hug a trunk
When you’re lonely or afraid.
“Your land knows you even when you’re lost”
Water it with care no matter the cost.
She appeared after a solstice full moon
Bedraggled and malnourished,
Fur patchy
Skittish like she’d been abused
Her eyes met mine and I swooned, and soon it was just us two
Little pupper and an anarchist hiding out in Kipahulu
Shared meals of venison and beer
Her fear started to subside,
Light in her eyes when we went out to explore
But I had to leave and after our brief reprieve
I realized I couldn’t keep her any more
I wish I could have kept her as my own
But a Kula ranch with other happy doggos served her better
But every time the Solstice comes around
I miss the hell out of Luna
I won’t forget her
Kiss-less at midnight
but the bubbly flows freely.
A night of reflection
has got me in my feelings.
I raise a toast to the past year
and the gifts that it brought me.
I’m even thankful for hardships
and all that they taught me.
I welcome the new year –
so many surprises awaiting.
I’m excited and hopeful.
And I’m still celebrating.
Oh, Summer Solstice
longest day of the year
We’ll enjoy more sunshine
Let’s go out and play
Frolicking with Fae
Creative fires burning
Celebrate the harvest coming
As forbidden fruits, keep growing
Elder knowledge, flowing
Mother Earths heartbeat
Audibly humming
Buzzing
“For years the idea haunted me, and that night it returned more insistently than ever”
I wish I was an equalizer
one that changes dialogue
not one who has to walk on unfinished floors
answering where did you come from questions
One that doesn’t have to speak on behalf of someone else
before speaking about self
I wish I lived in a place
where every encounter was safe
where my son could walk home in the dark
where the ideas of someone haring him wouldn’t haunt me
Someone did
he called me 25 times
I missed the calls
all of them
he said you never pick up for me
he didn’t mean it
I just didn’t that day
too busy not paying attention
too bust muting myself at work
too busy muting my phone
Our lives changed after that
It’s not about St. Louis
Its not here
Safety
its all an idea
It feels now, like there is a kiln outside
and its monsoon season
where one wrong move
will send you cascading down a hilly footpaths
I wish I knew a safe place
but the world is beginning to feel too small for me
too small for us
too small for truth
While driving my daughter to school in the early morning hours of a freezing November day, in a grave tone of voice she quietly said to me “Mom, we need to talk.” I shot a look at her in the passenger side seat, and seeing her serious and frightened face, with a sinking feeling I knew what she was going to say. I mouthed the words to her “Are you pregnant?” and she slowly raised her index finger up and touched it to her nose. Though only seventeen when she gave birth, she would from the very beginning be an excellent mother to her baby boy, Leon. She enrolled in her high school’s online program so that she could graduate with her class and still parent her son, and in a high school work study internship for students interested in either nursing or teaching. She excelled in all while still caring for her growing little boy, born the 25th of July, a Leo birth sign for our little lion man, not only our Christmas in July gift, but by pure chance with a name that spelled backward the Christmas word “Noel.”
the trying times seen in haven for pulsating
pulsation for new coverage
simply amazing how life converging
latent markers new pavement
seen in the pathways of exchanges
sequences consequences whispering
desire of human feats unleashing
converging the posture of human desires
requisites manifesting for reference addressing
featuring in the life connections unleash
Poem #18