24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Birds chirp in conversations loudly,
they sound as if mornings are their most favorite time of the day
the grassy fields and flowers move as if they are dancing in the sunlight
The sun graciously swaddles the earth while the clouds puff like cotton candy
the city is beginning to wake
Strawberries are found in her dreams in her earliest memory on the kitchen table, in the California setting, next to her mom.
A strawberry shortcake scented doll was her only friend when her parents left her for only one night with the man their friend and his English wife.
She only remembers the man who watched the football game on the screen in the dark and alone like she felt so long ago only two.
No brother to call her own as yet, only strawberries to comfort her.
All rights reserved copyright (c) 2019 Natasha Vanover
I envy
those who wait in peace
no troubled sleep,
restless hours
through these waiting years
guiltless they pretend
innocence will save them
when the end is nigh
and evil reigns supreme
Section 1 – Zero to Three
Those were the days
When my mother was alive
I thrived
Like never again.
There was love
And hugs
Peeled grapes
With paté sandwiches.
Section 2 – Three to Six
Insanity took me
Not within me, but without.
A crazy man who,
Paid to make me cry
Never wondered why
He was so sad.
Section 3 – Seven to Eleven
I remembered Mama’s name
At the end of school one day
And so, we had to move
All my fault, he said to me
Slapped into eternity,
This devil at my side,
Bruised my legs
Then to jail he did ride.
Section 4 – Twelve to Fourteen
All for acting was my life
Despite the fear, the pain
The strife
Of wealth pretend, did they.
Much to my dismay
The rode upon my back
Empathy their greatest lack.
Section 5 –High School
Both my loves they hated so
Acting, and a man from
Over there
In the pear.
But what did I care.
They were crazy!
She was left with an impression.
She made the strawberry association
With all that was good
Like in the month she was born in
Close proximity to Mexico and California
Fresh and ripe like her place of birth.
Also like her brother
Who sounded like strawberries when he spoke
Connecting her to her mother
Sweet and decadent as grapes
Closely related to her fathers favorite berry as well
The rasberry.,,,
For this reason
Strawberries would always hold
A special place in her heart.
All rights reserved copyright (c) 2019 Natasha Vanover
Dear depression,
You fucking suck
I cannot count the number of casualties
I cannot even quantify the collateral damage
I cannot begin to add up the lost years
I cannot even fathom the billable hours
I cannot sift through the pills and treatments
I cannot properly express in any language
Just how terrible you are
You steal, maim, intimidate, and crush
You wrap your tendrils around hearts and minds
You keep people from seeing the truth
You twist sentences spoken in kindness into barbs
You use every dirty trick
Cancer can be excised
Infection medicated
Wounds cauterized
But you, are like a fungus
Crawling and invading and seeping in
An intelligent parasite slowly feeding on its host
Hiding in places no surgeon would dare go
I have lost good friends to you
I have lost heroes to you
I have lost years to you
I have lost good times with good people to you
In short, you are just the worst
It is on dandelion heads
Blown into gossamer
It is on old coins
Tossed into the well’s shelter
It is a fervent prayer
Made on a distant star
Of far flung hopes and dreams
From our limitless reservoir
“Not in that river, Billy”
Nobody could ever swim safely in there
Don’t even try, you’re not Superman
Same for the cliff you want to climb
Nobody has ever dared trying
You arrive and do it
Like effortlessly and so smoothly
What’s your secret?
The river taught me that secret
Be water, be the Flow
You’ll get unconditional support
From all the elements, and Angels alike
Once my glove was taken~
Mother had to get it back.
From a woman who was so nasty~
Set her dog on me to attack.
Twice had younger siblings~
Related not through Dad.
Wasn’t until I was older~
Found out how many more I had.
Three times I named my rabbits~
They all died horribly.
One eaten by my friend~
One frozen near our tree.
Four years in clubs of drama~
The only thing I had.
Mentors tried to use me~
They made me very sad.
Five hits from my fun bullies~
‘Til I finally kicked them back.
The tall one needed stitches~
Short one ribs did crack.
( I miss my unspoiled me )