24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A message to me:
You know what triggers.
You know what inspires.
Stop before it gets too late.
Fresh fruits and plenty of sleep.
Fasting is not recommended unless its intermittent.
Music is a must.
Who else can you trust?
Cleaning is a necessary.
Organization can be a fuss.
Rest too is a delicate balance you must create.
You know what is needed.
Why do we do the opposite of what we need?
Answer this with your heart and you will finally accomplish the deed.
I’m being haunted by a terrible ghost
It keeps me awake knocking on my bedpost
I’ve tried to be a patient host
I’ve even tried raising a midnight toast
But the phantom returns every night to boast
This terrible ghost is always there
Making sure my flaws are laid bare
It fixes me with a judgemental glare
I wish its ghastly sheet would tear
Because it has given me an awful scare
That terrible ghost drags across the floor
Making sure that I don’t have to snore
I’ve never been so afraid before
Keeping it company has become quite a chore
I just don’t think I can take it anymore
You terrible ghost it is time to pack your bag
Tear your sheet and make a white flag
Your haunting days have hit a snag
Get moving you ghoul no time to drag
And don’t expect anything from me in your mailbag
Goodbye terrible ghost, again I say adieu
Running you off has been a breakthrough
You aren’t around to let my failures accrue
Even at your worst I found a way to push through
I feel so alive, fresh and brand new
Rise up,rise up,rise up.
It’s true,
we are losing love,
we are failing words,
we are cheating ourselves,
we are competing for stupid ends.
But,
Let’s reaffirm our faith,
once again,with bonds of love.
Let’s redraw our boundaries,
once again,with the ink of fraternity.
Let’s believe this prayer,
once again,with love and without doubt,
“Make our world one,make us one.”
Dear Heart,
Are you awake?
Did you fall asleep?
I feel your beat.
Please wake up!
I’m here.
It’s me…
Morning. My hands are cramped around this pen. My eyes are blurred and weary. I am tired and achy, but changed.
Dad came, Giraffe is here. I poured it all out. Thank you, Ernest. You taught me that… to pour it out, to leave nothing off the page, to leave no blood for the heart.
I did that.
I screamed. I cried. I sobbed. I had silent conversations with my mother. I had louder silent conversations with my daughter.
I grieved.
…and Cameron stayed with me through the whole journey, checking, and rechecking me, bringing water, snacks, and tissues, rubbing my hands and wrists and fingers. He is my constant. He always will be.
Morning, and I am huddled with my core at Our Fire. I am safe, and I am loved. I will Run Along the Ecliptic, and call the night, to end this very, very long day.
What the World Needs Now
There’s only one thing lacking,
Anywhere you go.
There’s only one thing missing,
Don’t you know.
Famine and drought and pestilence,
Crime and drugs and need.
Anywhere we look on Earth,
There’s poverty, hunger, and greed.
So many, many problems.
Is there anything to do?
I hold that one solution
Would make the world like new.
If we could love each other,
We’d come up with a way
To fix the other problems.
It might only take a day.
If we had love, respect and love
For people everywhere,
There’d be enough to go around,
For folks would want to share.
What the world needs now
Is love, sweet love.
That’s the only thing
There’s just too little of.
I
Born in my parents’ hometown.
April is the month of bluebonnets.Many pictures of Mom in bluebonnet fields,
None of me. My Mamaw lived there, and she loved me.
II
We were poor. We moved a lot, but it wasn’t hard.
We spent most weekends camping and fishing on the beach.
I am confident and unafraid.
My third grade teacher saw me for the genius I am
And put me in charge of things.
I liked being in charge of things.
III
Dad drank and smoked. He worked evenings
and weekends. He started taking his frustrations out on me
with his hand, switch or belt. I couldn’t protect the others.
They got it, too. But I was the main target.
It wasn’t tough love, it was meanness born of frustration.
But it hurt the same, regardless of the name.
IV
Music saved me. I was good at it. My heart soared.
I played in the orchestra, I played in the band.
In high school I was a majorette and Drum Major.
Those are high profile jobs in Texas schools.
Life was finally tipping my way!
V
My sisters are better with remembering
family stories and names. I can meet a stranger briefly
and remember their name a year later. But I can’t remember
who went to the beach that time we had a singalong, or
what everyone ate at Dad’s favorite restaurant on
some anniversary or birthday. Does it really matter?
My sisters and my mother can! That’s enough.
VI
The day I learned to diagram sentences was the day I knew
one day I would write. Mrs. Raley stood there, holding her chalk,
talking about predicate adjectives, and suddenly a veil dropped.
I understood parts of speech and how they depend upon each other.
I still remember how it felt to know that I knew. I knew English.
I really knew it. No one could ever take that away from me.
How deep is your love?
Have you ever been lost before?
How deep is your love?
Have you ever had a friend that didn’t call you crazy?
How deep is your love?
When you cry what do you release or fight to hold on?
How deep is your love?
When you laugh, is it happiest alone or with others?
How deep is your love?
If tomorrow we never meet, would you still think of me?
How deep is your love?
On your back, look up at the stars or day dreaming?
How deep is your love?
Take my hand and walk with me, speaking softly of our yesterdays?
How deep is your Love?
Grow old and die with me; only in your eyes I see, how deep is your love.
Cliques, athletes, and loners
brains, jocks, and losers,
when graduation came
we were all the same.
After years of segregating
splitting and separating,
at the very end
we all blended again.
Yet the day finally came
and away we all went,
despite our graduation theme
our time was spent.
Paul joined the Army,
I went to university,
he sustained unknown injury,
I endured first marriage misery.
Decades later
Facebook brought us together
our love came
full circle again.
Never Say Goodbye, Jon Bon Jovi
Livin’ on a prayer
To die for, to live for
Isn’t it a question of whom?
We all know we move towards death
Yet we crave for life
The longer the better
It’s a funny equation you see
Guns or roses?
Can we make a difference like this?
Yes, for love we’ll pray
Yes, for peace we’ll pray
We‘ll live on a prayer a day
We’ll live on a prayer a day
Hour 24
@varenyas