24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Dearest M,
Where has the time gone
since your passing?
Years pass yet-
I’m barely aware when they
take flight!
I’ve aged-
into Happiness and
Adventure!
You’d be happy
with my choices!
I remember-
your delicate hands
and roaring laughter!
Oh, how your laughter could
shake a room!
I miss-
those shared moments.
Remembering you
And sent in Love.
Poem #4, Dearest M by Ingrid Exner, Half Marathon 2020
I stretch in my chair. Sunrises over Maui. Daylight takes the night.
Green replaces dark. Blue lives where black ruled the sky. Mynahs and dove wake.
Masked, untouchable, morning walkers find their pace, unfamiliarly.
Everything’s the same, and then nothing is the same, but steadfast Maui.
Elizabeth Fellows
6/27/2020, 6am
By Sandy Lender
Fathomless pain
And oppressive grief
know I can’t bring you
back out of the ground.
I beg forgiveness daily
for decisions forced upon me.
I fear regret chasing me down
cornering me on cloudy nights
when the last chateau briond
has drained my last emotion
leaving my heart-scatters vulnerable
to careless memories…
What selfish act could have kept
you nearer to me?
I can’t stand your absence any longer.
The fathomless abyss
seeks to blend us again
and tonight’s liquid inhibitor fails me.
I snuck a peek at an old photo
of you
who you were—
are you still that
youthful, rippling laughter
sparkly gaze
caressing my face,
stroke of softness
under yearning fingertips?
I bought you that sweater
felt alive with you
your easy skater style
and the night you
asked when was I going
to let you have sex with me.
My answer surprised you
but you remedied my rule
and we fell in love.
We fell into
chemistry like a potion
crafted by a wild scientist
mixing melted metals
and I carried your
lust
in my bones
having to wait to see you
was intoxicating
a draught, elixir
of desire.
But then you changed
or was it that you’d
stayed the same or had I changed
or was your patina showing,
not a unique and beautiful
luster as of something
weathered, made precious by time
but a toxic truth,
conservative hate billowing from
your dragon mouth.
And when you left, you blew through
the apartment
gathering your things
and in a gust of anger
and years wasted you were
gone. I loved you then
more than you could see
and it was you, stepping over me.
Is that why they say
love is blind?
Maybe the saying got bent
somewhere along the line.
Maybe someone only ever meant
to imply
love is kind
like in Corinthians.
Because blindness isn’t acceptance
but ignorance.
And that’s why I told you to leave.
I still cried.
Because learning new, hard truth
hangs in the balance,
the fine, paradoxical line between epiphany
and the drowning of a dream.
Dear Rob,
I’m sure you don’t know what you did
I’m sure you don’t get it
Because while you are perceptive and sensitive and observant
There are some things that just fly right over your head
So I don’t think you know how badly you fucked up
You don’t understand that I lost all trust I had in you
When you didn’t stand up with me
You don’t understand that I lost all desire to be near you
When I realized you wouldn’t defend me
You don’t understand that I lost all belief in you
When the prophecy I spoke so long ago came true
“I don’t mind his non-confrontational style that much
But when it causes him to hurt someone else
That’s the day I’m going to have a problem with him.”
It took five years
But you finally fulfilled my fear
I had hoped you wouldn’t
I had bet that you wouldn’t
After five years, I thought for sure you wouldn’t
But… then…
And of course you didn’t notice
Because the person in question wasn’t hurting you
You couldn’t see, like I could, that this person was going to hurt others
Your dedication to non-confrontation
Was finally about to hurt someone
Last time any words of mine went to you
Was early August
It’s almost been a year
I haven’t heard anything about you
In all seriousness, I hope you are alright
But I don’t know that I ever want you in my life again
You have proven untrustworthy
And that stung the most
Dearest ma
I miss you with all of my heart
In 2013 cancer tore us apart
You were given to me to teach me the way
To love, to care, to be kind and to pray.
You were tiny in build and feisty in grit
My proudest supporter and biggest crit
You sang me lullabies and held my hand
When you left, my heart sank in the sand
I am now comforted by the the encouraging thought
You are flying with the angels and the peace that you sought
Watching over all of us, our guardian above
Shining your halo of health, care and love.
Was there a door I left open?
Because I don’t remember inviting you in.
Not sure how I want to greet you,
You’ve left a golden hue upon the world,
Yet jealousy and doubt upon my white sleeves.
But maybe I’m the one with broken mirror,
And the chinks in my armor are self-inflicted wounds.
Friday night after dinner or early Sunday morning,
I suppose, you don’t care when, but how
You invade the peaceful valley of my thoughts.
Thought I had left all of your scraps behind,
And put in my pockets, only the most desirable pieces.
But your memory, a burning effigy, is still visible.
When you come in, please sit across from me.
The humble desk will mediate our laughs and tears.
Dear Harry,
From the old stories
from Hogy Vogy Country to the streets of Philadelphia
Philly what a city!
Liberty Bell
City Hall architecturally eye-catching
Philly cheesesteak is everywhere.
Enough about cities. Since you came here,
living on the east coast as well
is that how you adopted in the hustle business of
doing what you can to make money?
As a new mother,
As a mental health advocate
utilizing the works of aristotle
Shakespeare, and other literary knowns
to help heal without medication.
Work led me to the Upper East Side Manhattan
that had a big Hungarian presence.
Today it is felt in names of schools,
restaurants and churches.
Theatre comes knowledge of power
to create other jobs.
you got housekeeping or janitors
to electricians
to fashion and design
to therapy.
how does art not help mathematics or science?
the ancient greeks invented story telling in theatre as well as arithmetic.
Here to arts meet theatre
meet hustle to create more opportunities to make money.
Thank you.
I am me!
Dressed in my down footed shoes,
And my beautiful hijab.
I am me!
Dressed with no makeup,
Natural with no bleaching.
I am me!
Having no bleaching cream,
Neither do I have any other cosmetics.
But I am still me!
living in a small house,
Belonging to average class family.
Am really me!
Hiding my feelings from no one.
And accepting the fact that
I am a Muslim.
And I worship no other god but Allah.
(Laailaaha ilallah Muhammad Rasulullah).
Sex, war, profit,
more sex, court intrigue,
more profit, merriment, mirth
and, yes, the sickly towne
Sad, sickly time
ill news, sad stories
poor sicke people with plasters
the dead
Never been lived so merrily
or got so much
Let us dance and
be joyful the shops are open again
When you have seen one plague
you have seen them all.