24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A beautiful stranger. A smile.
That is how I lose my balance and stumble like a child in hand-me-down sneakers,
Certainly wanting what isn’t mine and secretly setting you aside to ponder,
So distantly dear… Stir me up with silver-lined sonder
Point if you will,
but my ram is fine and dandy,
destined to go to Heaven.
Our family was threatened
by a home wrecker . . . but
the schemer was vanquished.
Like a cool drink of water,
the upright ram reappeared,
bringing coals to Newcastle,
that upstanding sheep.
(An emoji translation that turned into another homage to Niedecker, who wrote collections of new Mother Goose poems.)
Smell of Summer’s Rain
Dew sprinkled drops onto blades
of grass on the lawn.
Fresh breeze blows in
the open window.
The panes pitter and patter
into a song.
Rain falling faster and stronger
til there’s a shield of showering
blinds the view.
Ants try to escape inside,
they are met by the cat’s paw.
Garden zinnias welcome
this needed moisture.
Reflective drops roll down,
carrying prisms of multicolors
inside them on the glass
of the storm door.
The rainfall stops
as fast as it begun.
I smell Summer’s beginning.
Margarette Wahl
👋 💕 🏳️ ❤️
(Hi Love, surrender the heart)
cycles of armies of men exert their power
and weaknesses over the weakest of waves
to propel the huge ship forward against the wind
and storms faster and faster to reach the shore first
to finally celebrate the end of being weighed down by ringing
alarms dancing sexes scrutinising eyes and a crew that cannot
stomach any strong opinion or facial expression
but over time hearts exclaim their faded
colours and deformed shapes
and donate all their blood
into a body of unrest
knowing the ship will hurl
its best hurt men
at the restless
disturbing protest
‘till they either return to bed
or pretend that the ship never squealed
beneath its routine laughs and coughs and deaths
Oh Captain my captain, our ships going to sink
Storm winds and tornados, for once, did you not think
That taking us into the stormfront so brazen
For all our passengers would be less than amazing
Soon our ship will be sinking, the fat lady sung
The band finished playing and our ending has come
But must we observe tradition and go down with the ship?
It’s a bloody ferry from Liverpool on a cross Mersey trip!
And most importantly, no one ever said
That you’d ever hit an iceberg fresh out of Birkenhead!
SHINE
___________________________
There is a price for all shine
—
The Sun collapses in on itself
Consumes and fuses
That light might cast
On the hard edges of diamonds
compressed in the earth’s breast
Taken from the ground
By hands shiny with scars
Earned in the life’s labors
That too carry babies
Into the world shining with
The mother’s triumph
That they might
Peer into the age worn
Light of Grandparent’s eyes
No shine is earned without effort
The world tumbles us all smooth
Compression and fusion
That we might be
The Sun’s reflection
We honour those
Who spent their time
On us, on our dreams,
Our passions, our goals.
We let them know
In words, in verse,
In quiet admiration
The impact that they had
On us. On everything.
We try to show that
We will remember.
We will be more
Than simply people
Standing on their desks.
I don’t know many verses by heart
I don’t lead a sunday class and
I don’t sing or play an instrument
Funny when you consider
my age
I’m old enough to
have it all together
But I don’t
In many ways, I’m like a child
I still need spiritual milk
and not solid food.
Someday I’ll get there
to where I can debate
you on religion
Just not yet
Vines grow
yellow blossoms open
enticing bees to
cover themselves in gold
heavy with fruit
glowing red
warm in my hand
I breathe in the scent
as my teeth sink in
juice drips down my chin
as I taste the flavor
of summer.