24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I am illiterate when emoji are presented.
Most to small to see them well, to read them or select them.
Em is one of my daughters.
Oj, her drink;
Is, was, are, am, and were, are verbs to be—I think.
And as I said, at emojis, I stink!
This a different nature
not flowers, rainbows & gentle rain.
not fluffy rabbits, spry frogs and quick
jumping fish.
This is thorns, clouds and thunderstorms.
this is raccoons, alligators & piranha
this food chain is hunt or be hunted
eat or be eaten
like musical chairs, but no music
everyday a Russian roulette demanding
quick feet & quicker thinking.
It’s not unknown,
The tale about the four seasons,
And the symbolism that each holds.
So let’s start with the Queen of the Seasons – Spring,
Spring Season symbolizes birth.
True to its meaning,
Nature blooms during this season.
Then comes Summer,
Breaking the door down,
With its youthful charm and courage.
Autumn Season the next in line,
Fixes the door diligently,
Symbolizing adultness and maturity.
The fourth season,
We have come to the end of the cycle,
All hail the King of the Seasons – Winter.
Winter Season,
Termed as a period of gloominess,
For it brings along some unwanted guests,
Old age and Death.
Winter and Spring,
The King and Queen of the Seasons,
One brings death,
The other birth.
Don’t you see it?
The old-age tale is true,
Seasons represent the cycle of life,
Beginning from the birth and ending with the death,
These are seasons of the life.
– Addy
Right, ok, you know
Us and them
Sadly you waved away the space
It was a good idea, to be sad
Filled you up with black holes
And more black holes
Just right
Opening for you
In the world of the plain and ordinary
the primary grades called out for something new
and hairy
a spark of magic, the flick of a tale was born
and so began the season of the unicorn
a noble foal grew playful strong and sweet
shiny coat, locks of the rainbow flowing free
as she gallops, trots and cantors here to there
she’s welcomed more than any common mare
Now some love llamas, and some love narwals
The fairies fled, the mermaid swam her time
but for unicorns today a girl falls
in love, as sure as stars and bubbles shine
What purpose does their long horn serve?
I cannot guess, perhaps it’s in a book
Do they perform jousts to prove they have the nerve?
Or is it all just for the look?
Though unicorns today bring girls together
All I can say is Pegasus is better
Happy, Sad, Angry, and other complex things fill my mind.
I am not sure what to feel.
I am going through different waves.
From laughing to crying even though not in one go.
It is strange to feel these but stranger not to feel anything at all.
I am happy to have these mixed feelings through my life even though they are not always understood.
Beth A. Fleisher
Hour 7
Prompt 7: Write a poem titled Season of the (fill in the blank). The fill in the blank could be a reference, it could be an actual season, it could be something abstract, or concrete, anything you want. The key is to write a poem that matches, or interacts with that title.
Season of the Covid
Is there any passing of the seasons
in this crazy world we’re living in?
It all feels like one homogenous thing.
Some days. Many days. And yet
I see
the Iris buds rise from the leaves
and then open into lush purple flowers
with sweet scent of Spring.
As those blooms fade,
I see
my lilac tree is laden with huge ropes
of little purple flowers with pink centers,
and I can smell their deep fragrance from my window.
I see
the first robin with his red breast.
And hummingbirds who have been away for a year
appear at the feeder on my patio to sip nectar.
I can feel
the difference in the warmth of the sun on my back
as spring glides into summer.
So why do I feel like time is not moving on at all?
I was talking with my daughter yesterday
about the State Fair being cancelled,
along with all of the 4th of July Fireworks,
parades, carnivals, and barbecues.
That was my “AHA!” moment.
I’m realizing that all of the big and little social events
that normally mark the march of time are missing.
No April birthday celebrations with my sons.
No excited preparation for Mother’s Day or Father’s Day.
No burst of freedom when school is out for the summer.
No graduation ceremonies.
No stop to buy Sparklers and Ground Blooming Flowers for the 4th of July.
It seems that from mid-March until now,
almost the end of June,
we’ve been living in one big, long difficult season:
The Season of the Covid.
Face coverings, social distancing,
shelter at home, be responsible,
protect the elders, don’t go to stores,
wash your hands, disinfect everything,
make PPE, search several towns to find t.p.!
The passing of the seasons has been usurped
by the passing of the Phases.
I find it’s all too much. Too much to think about,
too much to worry about, too much to take in.
I desperately want my old life back,
when the passing of the seasons meant family time,
going on adventures, planning trips, and celebrations.
But as I take a deep breath and look out my sliding glass door,
two ducks are happily swimming laps in our closed swimming pool!
I assume they flew in from the more-crowded wildlife refuge,
and as they enjoy this clear blue body of water all to themselves,
the absurdity of it hits me, and I can’t stop smiling.
The season of Covid brings its benefits, too.
The decreased air pollution during the lockdown
meant more oxygen in the air and happier birds,
who fill the air with their joyful thanks.
Families who, on average, had 38 minutes of interaction
per day suddenly are together All.The.Time. and
they are learning to talk to each other again.
And K-12 kids who spent hours in front of video games
in their pre-Covid lives, are now outside, riding bikes,
and inventing the 2020 version of King of the Hill.
Workers have realized they can work from home,
and I’m not sure employers can ever
put that Genie back in the bottle…or cubicle.
And we all finally have time to really pay attention
to the news — and we were horrified and disgusted
as we watched George Floyd murdered before our eyes.
And we have had time to take to the streets and march in protests,
rediscovering that the Power really is with the People.
The Season of Covid continues. We can either struggle
against its lessons, or embrace them. Some of us have prayed
for Something to wake people up.
The Season of the Covid definitely has done that.
I wish life had more heart shaped sunsets,
And when the night sets,
We rewind,
And appreciate or daily upsets,
For those,
Those have forced you to grow further into Jesus’s perfect object,
Shaping you into a mouthpiece that quiets unrests,
Bringing more people to God,
Through Jesus the one and only pathway
~Ropa
Season of the De-cluttering Diva
Where did all this stuff come from?
Start with the smallest room: the kitchen.
Down came the unused shelving
Out went miscellaneous mugs and dishes
A little new paint made such a big difference.
My walk-in closet did not live up to its name.
Taking everything out
Slapping on my new friend, fresh paint
Gifting to friends, donations to charity
And I can find everything and move around.
My teensy apartment seems bigger.
All the airiness helped my creativity. An added benefit.
“Stuff begone!” is my new mantra.
Am proud of my discipline during troubling times.
Growls fill the air
Booming, a sign of doom
My blood runs cold
The ghost of simpler times haunts my bones
Waving me off, my final goodbye
Where is it coming from?
A family of trees all shapes and sizes
Protect me from the stars that wish me dead
Shields of armored leaves
Trunks so vast they’d make a giraffe bow before them
Their protection comes at a cost
Something I cannot repay
I have run too far
Too long
I fall to my knees and surrender myself to the earth
Skin falls in sheets
My insides turn to dust
I am returned to the earth
The trees debt is paid