24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
write a poem that feels like a dream
flashing blue lights don’t make my pulse pick up
or my shoulders tighten
or the possibility of my life
flicker in and out
flashing blue lights are just that:
alternating hues of brightness
a color between green and indigo
electromagnetic waves bouncing off retinas
From birth we age
in labored groan –
from youth to sage,
from babe to crone.
Sisters beside us,
women are never alone,
from ashes to ashes,
to dust and bone.
#3: Motherhood is just another day
Ah!
A shriek from the other room. What the hell was that?
I run in, soapy spatula still in hand from doing the dishes. I scan the room quickly for where my kids are this minute.
Oh, of course. My child is testing the limits of physics!
What are you doing? Are you okay?
They giggle and laugh. Likely thinking I’m insane.
Why is mom so worried? Doesn’t she know we just like to play?
Oh, the innocence of children. All fun and games. Their injuries only hurting for a second until they’re back up and onto the next thing.
I shake my head and go back to the dishes. Listening to them laughing while I carry on with getting through the next few minutes.
Redaction
The choice to censor myself
Is not one that I want to make,
Redaction is not for the likes
Of poets like me.
I perfer to spill my verse
More honestly…
Without the markers
Cross to hide the dream
I want to speak.
When you spend time outside
You realize you are a hypocrite
You say one thing
Believe in other
You say something to one
Something else to another
Your actions do not match your words
Nor your words match your thoughts
Man, what a bigot!
My head keeps falling on my keyboard, so I have no choice but to sleep a bit. Will catch up when I wake up at 10 am (It’s now almost 5 am). See you soon!
Ant
It’s not a truth serum
I reassure in the first instance
You won’t make me quack like a duck?
You inevitably reply
Only if you want to
I smile
Nor will I get you to eat an onion
thinking it’s an apple
But this still doesn’t satisfy
What if I’m not able to go under?
Under what?
I reply
Do you use a pendulum or watch?
Would you like me to?
My tone even my eye contact unwavering
You breathe, you close your eyes
I hypnotise
In the morning I will *redacted* *redacted* *redacted* *redacted*
even though I am alone
I will check with my elderly neighbor and see if she would like to *redacted* *redacted*
even though she is alone
In the morning I will remember when we were not alone.
Children born in fairyland
as wings begin to sprout
searching for sprinkles of cake crumbs
their magic is no doubt
They always get their wishes
made of enchanting light
once were thought of as misfits
But now their repute is bright
Early married at seven
homes of brick and granite stone
these flitting little sprites
our dearest friends they’re known
The penchant for trickery
in will-o-the-wisp spells
considered demoted angels
but we embrace their bells
To leave that stale bread
the essence of home and fire
taming dough to rise
in distaste of the pixie’s ire
the Sleagh Maith of Scotland
the Good People so blessed
condensed clouds of the north
like chameleons colured deft
To meet these beguiling wafts
with their translucent gossamer wings
a dream would surely come true
as the King of Fairies sings
