24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
when our maps became obsolete
when sudden mountains rose
and highways exploded
and dreams disintegrated
we became people living
on a threshold
beyond which we cannot imagine
except that one day this will be history
that some laughing people
bearing our genetic traces
will never think about
unless it’s on a test
they will never remember.
Life has a way of over baking.
Without warning the timer has gone off
and you still putz along not knowing that
everything is crisping at the edges.
Good thing your soul is full of
pink sunrises, bird song, and meaningful prayers
filling in small increments a life lived so
when the tears rim your sad eyes
you realize your disaster isn’t the end
and your strength has come in small doses
urging you to try again.
Ingredients, you will need:
1x Global Pandemic
2x parents who’ve just got used to having the house to themselves
1x son who can’t stand having to leave the delights of the city for his parents house in the countryside
1x son with pretensions of being a comedian
1x enclosed space for all of them to cook together.
Start with your pandemic, season it liberally with panic, fear and panic buying of supplies.
Individually flavour the other ingredients with vastly varying flavours. examples include liberal attitudes to nudity, differing political viewpoints and an inability to deal with other opinions.
Lock up all ingredients in the confined space for several months. make sure to heat well with large amounts of sunshine but do not allow them outside for more than 1 hour a day.
Begin loudly pointing out all the fun things that your ingredients would be doing if they were literally anywhere else.
Let the comedian son write out a series of poems based on how frustrating he is finding everything. For extra spice, add several disparaging and thinly disguised descriptions of members of his family.
Mix said poetry with three bottles of wine at dinner. Make sure you stir well to let out all the buried resentment from the last 20 years. Sprinkle a few “OK Boomer” comments and serve with a long rant about Millennial snowflakes.
Bon appetite
Hour 2: Ringing the Bell at Church
Sitting in silence as the bell rings.
Memories not my own.
Four minutes for Floyd.
Four minutes for 400 years of slavery
in America.
Its echo shakes loose tears for the suffering and oppression—
their story and the story of my own people.
The bell rings by the hands of all the ages
by the growing brown hands of my sons
the Jew and Friend
Christian and Witch.
It hardly seems long enough
as muscles burn on the rope.
Over and over and over
the bell rings.
Listen
Listen
LISTEN
A message too often silenced
with the privilege to forget.
1. An abundance of patience and hope.
2. Communication with precious friends and family members
3. A walk in the park or a zoom workout
4. Keeping gainfully employed
5. High-fat takeout or cooking
It’s hard to find the right mixture to get through this plague
Only the right recipe will fight this feeling so doomful and vague
You’ll have to summon bountiful hopeful thoughts and keep good cheer
Sprinkle in some daily talks with friends and family to keep your head clear
Add a little exercise with some hope in the park to escape the days kept in
Or a dash of a workout online with patience to keep spirits high and body thin
But it’s also important to flavor the secret sauce with a steady job
Because an income and staying busy are keys to surviving this malaise
To keep your thoughts occupied in the worst of those long cloudy days
As needed, throw in a small amount of fatty food and sinful booze
Just enough to put on a smile and escape the summer blues
Even the best recipes change over time
That apple pie Great Aunt Bernie brings every year?
She picks it up from the nearby corner store, puts it in a pie tin, and takes all the credit
But no one ever seems to mind, it gets eaten anyway
What about the green bean casserole that Grandpa makes? Oh yes, that nasty thing
Covered in so much cream of mushroom soup
He’s always so proud, so we each take a small scoop and hope for the best
And what about Cousin Mike? Well, he only brings himself
He’s uninterested in spending time with the family
Staying for the meal then leaving without a trace
One day this will change. Family will pass on, the young will grow up
One day, the goopy casserole and the corner store apple pie will be missing from the table
And one day, a new recipe will appear courtesy of Cousin Mike
A LIBRARY DATE.
INGREDIENTS.
Love
Bookmark
Car drive
Coffee and paintings
Library photo shoot.
My heart leaps always when I see him
For he is the silver lining in my cloud
Never dark with him, for we are love
And our love makes it marvelous
With a new bookmark for me
For my newly founded book
He smiles so wide at me.
His maroon car waiting
Door open, I hop in
For a car drive for coffee
Brewed, black, dark, strong
Just the way I love,
With the walls full of paintings
Paintings that resonate with us.
From the library cafe
The view is beautiful
A camera captures it all
A photoshoot for memories
Of our love, of my love.
Today is the right time,
To love a little harder.
Now, love is needed more than ever.
It is the time love will no longer for some,
But is craved by everyone.
Today more than ever,
Love is a healer.
Now, sick heart is everywhere,
It is time to be more aware,
Always give love wherever.
Today is the right time,
To see colors in a different light.
Now, love is not just black and white,
It is colorless and right.
Shine your love bright.
Today is the right time,
To hold hands.
Now, love without bound,
It is love not hate,
The world needs to propagate.
A Recipe for Ripened Intellect, Submission #2, Ann WJ White Life is a stream of books, stacked in piles to peruse. Grated science fiction, mixed with forked dramas, particle physics discovered in 420BC, for added flavor. History, biographies, romance and other non-fiction, Twisted about, squeezed. Varied pages lightly sautéed with imagination, juices flowing, added to mental gymnastics, with humor sprinkled liberally on top. This recipe of life and it's shadows, served with a healthy dose of sofa cushions for holding my body as my mine leaves my consciousness.
Ingredients:
1 quart of self-doubt
1 bag of self-confidence
a dash of lingering
1 carton of tears of self-pity
1 small packet of recklessness
Procedures:
Place self-doubt in a pan on the back burner, over a medium heat until boiling furiously. Pour into a mug.
Take one bag of self-confidence and dip it in the boiling self-doubt.
Let steep, while you linger.
Open the packet of recklessness, sprinkling it wildly. Don’t be afraid of knocking the cup over.
Open carton of tears of self-pity, and add liberally until the cup overflows.
Enjoy hot. Pour any extra on garden or house plants.