H14.P14
Simple is the REDACTED wrapped around me
The breeze whispers in my REDACTED
I REDACTED down into my lungs
It spreads through my veins
I carry REDACTED with each step into the new day
It is my REDACTED my beloved my heart
Radio
Against all odds,
it persists
perhaps solely for those behind the wheel
but nonetheless has manage to
thrive where others have crashed & burned.
Perhaps we’re secretly more old-fashioned than
we care to admit but
I think it will always have a special
place in society,
the lyrical masterpiece that gets us
through our day
& delivers us safely back home.
Being, patiently #14
I saw him, old and bent
Gnarled
Waiting patiently
Or so I thought
On the park bench.
He explained
When I asked
What he was waiting fot
That he wasn’t waiting at all
He was just
Being, patiently
Not being patient at all
Because being parient
Was doing
And he was just being
Pariently, without hurry
Or the dusruption of thought.
I apologised
For my intrusion
He laughhed
And said
That I didn’t intrude
Nothing could
Because
He was me
And I he
Just like birrdsong
And barking dogs
And the crying child
And the roar
Of the passing bus.
I smiled at his madness
And went on my way
And I learned
To see the oneness
In a sunrise
And now I know
Why he smiled,
That it was me
Who was mad
Not to see
The old man was right
All creation is one
Nature
She is me
And I am she.
Hour 11, Poem 14
A path through the forest,
Into the green wilderness…
Where does it lead?
Where does it go?
Why does it glow?
To lure the travellers along
Or to simply show off?
Are the faes behind it?
Or is it some other folklore?
You’ll never know…
(Hour 14) 11.30am-12.30pm. PROMPT: redact a poem
This was fun! Great fun!!
REDACTED
here’s what we know : there are ⬛️⬛️ types of ⬛️⬛️⬛️ : currently on this ⬛️⬛️⬛️ : there’s the ⬛️ : which we think are at least partially ⬛️⬛️⬛️ but mostly ⬛️⬛️⬛️ : then there’s the : ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ things : of the two : the ⬛️⬛️⬛️ are more ⬛️⬛️⬛️ : they have a ⬛️⬛️⬛️ kind of ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ : or at least a ⬛️⬛️⬛️ board which makes them : pretty effective ⬛️⬛️⬛️ : though they can be ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ : with effort : the ⬛️ just run by rote : doing manual ⬛️⬛️⬛️ style tasks
our assumption : is that they’re both : part of an ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ : which is pretty alarming : given what a great job : they’re doing of ⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️⬛️ : our wonderful water dependent world : into a ⬛️⬛️⬛️ : how long before the : ⬛️⬛️⬛️ arrive : is up for debate : but we better hope it’s a while : so we can figure out : how to ⬛️⬛️⬛️ back : assuming there’s enough of us : left to ⬛️⬛️⬛️
Dark Paradise
My home & native land,
complete with brotherly love
& a pretty decent setup for
which i am grateful.
With hopeful eyes,
we see the next generation
& hope for better.
From far & wide, they break their backs
in search of a superior way of life
for them & their loved ones.
That’s why we strive to keep it all incandescent &
free
stopping at nothing to defend what’s ours.
4pm. Poem 14 What is Love? (Redacted)
4pm. Poem 14
What is Love? (Redacted)
Love is a list (redacted).
Love is my children
and grandchildren,
my Lucy Watusi Kitty,
all the bills paid,
and a little (redacted) over.
Love is gratitude
and (redacted) cross legged
on my big, old, soft bed.
Love is (redacted)!
All my (redacted)!
All the (redacted)!
Love is guiltless
personal (redacted)
really good dark chocolate
orange toenail color
feral chickens (redacted)
right outside my bedroom window.
Love is
the gurgle speak of Iao Stream
chit chatting down to the ocean.
Love is autonomy
and nonjudgment
and cherry chapstick…
but, that doesn’t make much (redacted).
All these things are things I love
not what love is.
So, what is love?
Love is letting things and beings
be who and what they are as long as they aren’t hurting anyone else in their process…
Yeah, that’s what love is.
Not very poetic, though.
Let’s try again…
Love is the ache
in my ancient (redacted)
for crows and trains
and Mom and Dad.
Love is
the desparate hollow of my arms
where my grandbabies slept before the blast and splatter.
Love is (redacted)
that I will know those things
again someday.
Love is (redacted).
Yeah… love is (redacted).
.
Hour 14 image prompt – Loner
Sometimes I see a story
In a single blade of grass
Or reflection of a dusty glass
Sometimes it’s just silence
A vast and empty space
And emptier glass-eyed face
Sometimes I lose nothing to this
And zone away for days
And it matters not what anyone says
Sometimes but not always
It happens in a quiet place
Like this little block of city
I stare at my phone
And write abandoned to my fate
Hour 14: Four Girls, Forever Ago
A show no one would come to see
Dancing on the gazebo in gaudy rhinestones
Making fools of ourselves in public
Drawing on our faces with black lipstick
Late nights talking to strangers
Staying up to watch the sunrise
Streaking down the street
Sitting in a parked limousine
Laying on a cloudy beach
Taking candid photographs of each other
Walking hand in hand
Wearing each other’s clothes
Jumping over fences
Dying hair red with nothing but sugar
Silly Halloween costumes
Dinosaur boob tattoos
Boxes made for the love of each other
It was never meant to last
But how sweet it was
In hindsight