Redacted (14)
Daylight Prayer
Horizon of pink.
Grey droplets kiss my cheek.
I rise to meet the day.
Sun blooms warm.
I close my eyes
and dwell on thoughts of you.
Returning home,
sun fades
on the horizon— blue and deep.
Thanks for another day.
From My Backyard
The light begins to wane
The fog begins to roll
The bird song lessens
The dogs begin to bark
The night begins to wax
Communication (Not at all)
Engifted with new technology,
I wonder what’s left of our ideology,
What remains from our imaginations,
What hopes remains in our visions.
When answers automatically pop-up without a question,
Will these still be important?
What are the mysteries remains?
Is there humanity left to sustain?
When can we easily reach people from afar?
Is a virtually meet-up will be enough?
Will a chat be our new communication, Or not at all?
I hope we keep the deep conversation.
We exchange smiles through emojis,
And other emotions left unsaid,
We fight trolls through our keyboard,
Not knowing they all stuck in our heads.
Technology becomes dominant in this modern world,
But what else will be replaced after this?
Our lives? Our Deep communication and Connection?
I hope not, not at all.
#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR14 #24HRSCATEGORY
A Pop of Colors
Hour 14
A Pop of Colors
In the secret world of desert blooms
you never know which year
will have just the right amount of rain
to blast color from sand.
They say carpets of multicolored hues
will spread over the land.
You tread a red carpet among
the arms of Saguaro.
You dance between prickly pears
red and vibrant.
It is but a fleeting moment
in the time of high deserts.
The Same Patterns
cw: none
Another pair of kind hands
entered the room. The canary
tried to be good, like it
knew it was supposed to
be. The kind hands were
gentle, and helped patch
it up, and made sure the
curtains were open. But it
was too much – the canary
bit those kind hands. They
did not retaliate, but they
did leave: and the canary
knew, like all the times
before, the hands would
not return.
Creature Comforts-Hour Fourteen
And of all the people I could have met, of all the people I could have loved,
I met you, this wonderful, beautiful soul that is you, and it is so great,
but there are times my heart breaks with the yawning distance, and though
I reach out, half-asleep, wanting your weight, your touch next to mine,
its’ sudden and sharp realizing loss that stuns me to sudden grief,
grief that wasn’t there, and you aren’t here yet. Come home to me,
Come home to me and love me deeply, silently, slowly.
Hour 14: Sonnet
I’ve created a picture, much too vivid,
Clear as day, there you stood,
Ready for a commitment,
To give all you could,
The picture lasted to long, it became a cinema,
It never flourished in into much,
Became a slight dilemma,
I could only see, never got close enough to touch,
It started to reoccur, I began to know the ending,
In search of the real thing,
God knows I’m tired of pretending,
I’m a queen, it’s only right I have a king,
Ruling side by side like a leg and a thing,
With a prince and princess like a biscuit on the side.
A Suitcase heart (Hour 13)
The sun rises,
so do I,
its time to leave it all,
worries,
mundane days,
my old house,
I am on my way.
Let me pack some lunch,
along some hope,
oh, and my heart too.
I’m Struggling – Hour 14
I struggle with [redacted]
I have so much of it to give
But it’s often wasted
On those who don’t want it
Am I [redacted] good enough?
For your attention
For your time
For your [redacted]
It’s foolish of me
To think anything could change
My brain needs [redacted]
My [redacted] needs replacing.