24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I needed him as surely as I needed My heartbeat
A used his lungs for air
codependency not good for them
but they didn’t care
For every step he shadowed hers and used his nose to smell
His hands to touch, his young to taste, his voice to talk and yell.
inseparable like Siamese twins, a love like theirs was real
Touch like leather, clear as glass and unbreakable like steel.
Morning rise before the sun clip it on begin the count 10,000 the goal but today is more like one my feet carry heavy on the ceiling below and being in lockdown there is no room to roam back and forth pacing trying to hit 5k getting told I am loud adds to my dismay What is one to do when everyone is so mad and steps are the only thing that makes my heart glad
granules
for days i’ve dreamt
of wind, of deserts
of joining the dust
blowing everywhere
pooling in corners
drifting serpentine
in seductive swirls
out of life
LAKES, RIVERS, SEA (rsponse to prompt 12)
“I am haunted by waters.” Olivia Laing, To The River
I have never trekked the Ouse, never
visited the riverside, Sussex home
of Virginia and Leonard, never felt
river and sea merging at Newhaven.
But I, too, have been haunted
by waters. Six weeks old, I was
packed up and stashed in a woven
basket; carried to Burt Lake.
The lake where I learned to fish –
perch, sunfish. Where I learned
to respect the power of water
(storms, shipwrecks, lost sailors),
learned to catch, skin, and fillet
fresh catch for supper. And to fear
the sturgeon swimming in deep waters
under our small aluminum boat
with its 5hp outboard motor.
Have spent years skating on frozen
rivers, startled by its deep cracking
like gunshot, and fish embedded
in ten-foot thick ice. Skated for miles
and hours, whisper singing, I wish
I had a river I could skate away on,
and almost succeeded, but the sharp cold
always brought me home,
I have moved inland and thirsted –
no sea, few lakes. But mountains
kept me company, their streams
babbling and gurgling
in tune with blood.
Book: To The River, Olivia Laing
First line: “I am haunted by waters.”
Last line: “We crossed the river then and pulled away, and in the empty fields the lark still spilled its praise.”
Allow the words to prana, create the space, what you need already exists.
Strength of my loins
I remember when you were first placed in my arms
I couldn’t get enough of you
I could never get tired of staring at you
The perfumed smell of your talcum powder
The oil liberally spread on your most shiny cape of hair
I admired your beautiful pink toes. All ten of them
I oohed and ahhhed over your exquisitely formed pink fingers
The nails so tiny and pink
I kissed the soles of your feet ,over and over again
I held you to my heart
And our hearts beat, as one
In the sweet unison
Of mother and child
I was amazed that you had found your way, into my life
I was awed, that you chose to grace my house hold, with your sweet presence
The love I felt, the love, I still feel
Cannot adequately be expressed in words
Nay
There are no words to convey the depth of the love, I have, I feel for you
My heart beats for you, little one
I try to peep at the future. I know one day
I’ll have to let you go
I shudder to think.I cannot bear it
My mind comes back to the present
The bundle sucking so tenderly at my breasts
The nipples you hold.. Between your
Oh so beautifully sculptured pink lips
And your tenacity at ensuring all the milk you can possibly drink, comes out!
I adjust you slightly when you’re done suckling
To ensure you burp
You eyes look into mine,sated
Sure and secure in the love, I radiate
I love you, so much it hurts, little one
I love you so much, I catch my breath, sharply, when your eyes meet mine
I love you, my baby
Strength of my loins
Together, no challenge is insurmountable
No mountain too high, to climb
Your eyes close slowly, after your meal
I rock you. Cooing softly
All too soon, your eyes close in sleep
Your total shutdown, in lalaland
The air is thick with sound
Horns of cabs fighting over fairs
Buskers at the corners, plying their talent in trade
For a fiver or two
The street is warm from the days sun, and the rub of feet
Moving almost in unison toward one place or other
Even as I walk with and against the crowd of faces
I feel at ease, as I sway with the circulation of air mixed with all the pollution
New York City has to offer
I am seaweed
And the ocean of the Big Apple
Has me at its mercy
I woke up to the sound of the birds chirping outside my window
As the sun kissed my melanin skin
The warmth of the morning
Made me forget for a moment that racism didn’t exist
For a minute I felt the love of God
And I gave a genuine smile
Until I clicked on social media and the news
And I see another black person has been killed
And I begin to lose hope for the world
Our lives matter even if you don’t want to accept it
And no matter how you want things to stay the same
We will continue to reject it
Our voices will be heard…
…I just wish the world loved our brown skin like God does
Obsidia gazed longingly into a silver scrying pool
She eyed a man, her heart’s desire from a mushroom stool
With a smile, she let Amer the butterfly land on her hand
“Oh Amer, how can I win the fairest mortal in the land?”
As she spoke the stately prince rode his horse through the mystic forest unaware
“Oh yes, I could cast a spell and beguile him, but I want true love- that’s unfair!”
The butterfly fluttered its wings so fast that the fairy gasped
“How brilliant! But be human? That’s a spell I haven’t grasped.”
“Why, I’d need a flower from the mountain Jub-jub plant, that’s too far!”
The butterfly fluttered again and Obsidia eyes lit up like a star.
“But you and your friends, that’s too much for you to carry!”
With a buzz Amer dashed away, leaving fairy in romantic thoughts merry
Hours later she heard a rush of giant wings, a great eagle with a gift.
She could scarcely believe her eyes, that her friends delivered so swift!
The next day a young prince riding came upon a comely woman by a silky tree.
She offered food and drink. He was smitten. He didn’t notice something in his tea.
His mortal memory faded and together they lived happily in the forest
And Obisidia daily thanked her friend Amer and his butterfly chorus