24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I have become a translation,
a lost language, spoken in the
vast space between , a new
version of myself, stalking the
corridors of education, of the
past, fierce and curvaceous,
almost sexy as the appear
from the invisible future that
grows out my hands.
Daddy left on a cold and harsh day.
It was February…
Susie left us on a cool and dry day.
It was November…
It feels unreal, as if we do not exist, anymore.
To explain his fact of life called death.
Daddy was expected to some degree.
Susie just turned 20-years-old.
I once saw her … a vision in an old woman on the train.
It was Susie, if she were in her seventies.
An age she’d never see.
She was wrinkled, only a bit.
The woman on the train.
Saggy, large eyes…worn face.
When Susie, only 17 years was diagnosed with cancer…
Under her left eye …
Re-diagnosed…
She had the same thing at age 5.
Perhaps, Susie always had old eyes…
… a look that children with cancer get.
A knowing or maturity…we cannot understand.
As they are brave souls … old souls,
before they are old.
Maybe.
Daddy was old forever, of course.
But when the cancer came …
he got older, still.
Cancer brings old eyes …
at least, the terminal kind.
The face gets grayish.
Maybe it’s just sadness.
Or, eventually, letting go of this lifetime.
Then, just this one day, in August. Ideally, and suddenly.
There was light! From them who had crossed?
They lead me to him. Alive, healthy!
He danced and he sang for me!
He did not know it was for me …
or did he?
He came out, with life in his step!
He was fast and the air was on fire …
that passionate fire!
We connected, almost literally …
Like the fire in his very soul …
His forward motion was quick . . .
I pushed myself off the wall, holding me up!
And I intercepted him in the middle of the room.
When he grabbed me
… for the picture.
That hard grab was strong
…yet gentle at the right moment.
Passionate and held me up,
as I swooned in him embrace.
Life became real, again!
I existed!
I came alive!
NOTE: In 1987 my father died on February 4th, and my young friend, Susie died in November. As Susie was on her death bed — on August 28th — I met my favorite actor, Tim Curry. This is the actual photograph.
born in a pool of indecision
raised by a fool of precision
taught one thing, and one thing only
to survive, means to be lonely
as he rides the waves with his passengers
below him lies his endless massacres
doomed from the beginning was always his fate
if he tries to break cycles, there will no clean slate
until the day arrives where all evil is gone
he’ll be released from past chains and finally see the dawn
and in him, awakened with a new life’s drum
or will evil be the thing he’s finally become?
Thrown in for a loop
I was
I believed
I trusted
I loved
I was denied
I was destroyed
I was broken
Yet, I still flourish.
I did all the things I hated most,
and choked out room for love to grow.
Angry and bitter and out of control,
I did all the things I hated most.
I drank, I smoked, I screwed around,
I kicked and screamed, raised holy hell.
I cried and lied and stole and worse.
I did all the things I hated most.
Write an emoji poem they said
My mouth is a zig zag line
I have googly eyes
My eyebrows are off my face
And there’s puffs of steam coming from my nose!
Yea, I think I’m a moji on past this one.
O tiger, the great tiger
A fire and a flash
Where are the trees
And where is the forest
For within the stars I’ve lost my way
Can you see the ghosts that haunt us?
Can you feel them as they pass us by?
Praise those that exclaim their fears
They are the purest of us all
‘Oh Captain! My Captain!’
A sleepover, best friends, HBO, movie, cheese balls and chocolate,
And a line that made them laugh and cry,
Robbie Williams magic, the hold of his voice,
Scurried into the heart of a young writer,
As she hung onto his every word for he had a way of
Making her feel special, her talent validated,
He gave power to all the words that seemed to pour out of her,
He made her a dreamer, gave her hope,
She held her head a little bit higher,
Because of all those words he spoke.
He taught her better than any teacher she’d ever had.
-Prachi S
Saw it in a bowl, looked wonderful
Many different ones, all colorful
Grabbed one, shoved it in my mouth
Taste was something I couldn’t do without
Bit down-oh, hard as a rock
Pain was a bit of a shock
Crack- broke a tooth
This piece of candy, made it come loose
This is supposed to break my jaw
Then it could be my flaw
That I cannot handle
This sugar-coated vandal
The pains start at anytime
Sometimes it wakes me up at night
At times it sneaks up at me at day
It comes and makes me breathless
Leaves me groaning
Leaves me unsettled
Leaves me hapless
Leave me devoid of strength
Leaves me cheerless
Leaves me, misreable
I have sickle cell anaemia
Not a death sentence
But a pain sentence