24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
conflict of interest
freedom sought
deepens in the core being
seen in the life echoes
edge out realization
forming into transforming
cornering and endangering anew
greener pastures new bridges seen
coloring in the shield of light exchanges
seen in the haven for cornerstone building
delighted movers seen in movement of humanity
Poem # 06
“Hello, may I speak with the lady?”
“Who is this?”
Some conversations,
will not be missed.
Hidden,
your dalliances are your best kept secret,
snug in your pocket.
Two blue berries
Blisteringly hot day
Bluest of blue skies
Blabbering blackbirds bless the morn
Bling! Flashes my diamond ring
At home on my finger
Been there for a minute.
Blood berries, blooming daffodils
Two blue berries
Staring unblinking
Into your olive eyes.
Today is the day,
Time to take that test,
Hopefully, you studied well.
At the door your tech is confiscated,
But luckily, they are kind enough to give you a dictionary,
And then it sinks in, how do you use it?
A gigantic book sitting on your desk,
The way you stare at it makes it seem like it’s a monster,
Taking your seat, you keep looking over at it, as if in fear.
The test begins and there it is,
A word you don’t know, you reach for your phone, but remember, it’s not there,
Another look at the dictionary, reaching out to touch it.
Your eyes are closed because you feared it would harm you,
Opening it, you see nothing but words, but not the one you’re looking for,
Thinking to yourself, how do you use this thing?
But it’s just that simple, the words are in alphabetical order,
So all you have to do is look for the word by spelling it out while searching,
In the end, you find what you’re looking for and laugh to yourself.
Why was I so terrified of something so useful, but ancient,
Technology, I presume makes us a little dumbfounded by the simplicity,
No longer will an old dictionary give me the chills.
In the corner collecting earth
your lonely frame now rests,
you no longer shine or sit,
in the centre of my desk
or place ink upon a page,
no one will read the stories
we never worked to tell
for our technology is weary,
and time has not treated
either of us well,
Heat radiates from your body,
as I caress the soft curves of your porcelain skin.
You make my heart quicken with desire.
I’m mesmerized by the fullness of your body.
Your aroma exhilarates my senses.
My lips caress your curves eagerly,
and my anticipation of our ecstasy is unbearable.
I embrace you just to feel your touch.
I promise to never let you go.
I drink in your loveliness,
as I whisper your name softly…
Coffee
tremors of new religion
moving the psyche of new realm
coloring the world in the pavement of endangered marveling
bridge of exchanges clarity marvelous manifesting
freedom of new heaven
delighted partaking
marvelous serenading
rendering in the path for new formalities
clarity unveiled anew
colorants of rainbow delighted refreshing up
Poem #05
Every day we hear them,
their purpose is mayhem.
The more the better and
certainly, no encyclical letter.
Maybe you will repeat
what was said in a tweet,
or what you heard on Fox,
or was it from some hawks.
That you will figure out the trope
Maybe I find some hope.
That you may become a sleuth
and find your way to truth.
Beth A. Fleisher
Hour 17
Prompt 17: Write a poem about a form of technology that is obsolete or is headed that way. The technology could just be referred to in passing, like a telephone booth, or it could be a CD that is the focal point of the poem. The degree of focus on the obsolete technology is up to you.
Vinyl Collection
A turntable and speakers hold a place of honor
In Bob’s living room next to shelves
Filled with his prized vinyl collection.
45’s, 78’s, full-size albums.
Lifetime tunes by Bing Crosby, Elvis,
The Everly Brothers, Santana,
Crosby Stills Nash and Young.
The Blue Danube and White Christmas,
Beethoven and Simon and Garfunkel.
All the greats with their signature sound
Etched on vinyl, played with a needle,
Every part of the cherished entertainment
Now archaic and all but forgotten.
Death met me with a snifter of cognac and nod of his head. He was sitting patiently between my parents enjoying the flavor of an unlit cigar. He had been waiting with my parents for hours in the small airport terminal. My father paced the floor as my mother laid her head on Death’s shoulder. We were all flying to Milwaukee to bury my brother.
My parents hugged me, and I offered them my condolences.
Death said, “Your father is handling this extremely well. He knows his son is gone, but he is taking the necessary precautions.”
“As expected,” I said.
“As expected,” Death replied.
I held no ill-will for Death, because I know all must make his acquaintance in the end. I just wished he hadn’t taken Jim so early. He was only thirty-five, and we had many fishing trips yet to take.
The flight was surreal, for I can’t recall anything of the actual flight. It seemed to me that we never left the airport terminal in Appleton; yet, here we are at the hospital in Milwaukee.
My father heard the doctors read the unfortunate findings of the CAT Scan, and then informed him that they’ll take another in twenty-four hours. As my father stood by my brother lying in the hospital bed, my mother had been swapping turns with Death every few hours in the lone chair. Though I knew it wasn’t going to be a restful sleep, I sent my parents to the hotel for a few hours of slumber. All knew that tomorrow was going to be busy with phone calls and tears.
As our vigil began, Death offered me the chair, and I started in on editing my students’ poems. There is no rest for teachers, not even the death of a loved one. Death stared out the hospital window and swirled another cognac while rolling the still unlit cigar in his mouth. The only noise was the hiss of the life support system keeping my brother alive.
My parents returned the next day and others visited to pay their respects. It wasn’t until late the next day when my brother went for his next CAT Scan. It wasn’t until after ten that night that the doctors read the results. The aneurism had gone from bad to worse. Now, my parents had to make the decision, and they made it quickly.
“He never wanted to live like this. He made that well known.” Dad said.
Death and I nodded in agreement. We left my parents alone so that they could say their good-byes.
My parents soon exited the hospital room and I gave them both a hug.
As we turned to go, I paused to shake Death’s hand, and said, “Death, be not proud.”
“Death be not proud,” he whispered and turned to enter my brother’s room.