24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
“Flower” by Mandy Austin Cook
She was named after a skunk
but her personality was much sweeter
my first pet my first comfort
my first childhood companion.
she befriended my teddy bear
and became my shadow.
and the days I needed silent encouragement
she would snuggle her head under my shoulder
and just stay for however long was needed.
Sonoma wildfire
Frightened feline runs away
A friend gone too soon
Missing companion
The young boy searches the streets
Hangs flyers handmade
A call from stranger
Kitty purrs on telephone
Friends reunited
You bury yourself in layers as you grow,
And when others picked you apart
You buried yourself deeper and deeper.
Until the you they see is not bedrock,
Just another shelf of slim self worth,
Supported by stress cracks and boiling feelings
That threaten to burn you alive when you’re alone.
Remember even faults must shake, volcanos
Recover after being unmade by violent upheaval
And stand taller, recover themselves to calm.
Let yourself go. Unmake and break, bend, release,
Remember what makes you, we’re all made of fire
And beneath the thin shell of fear glow bright,
Brilliant like the cores of dead stars.
Remember to burn passion, own what makes you.
I came into this world with a bang. On a stormy Thursday afternoon, the trains stopped working, the roads were flooded, I came into this world with 5) the umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. I loved food. I still do, no one had to coax me to finish eating. I loved eating mud, and drinking soda 10) stuffing my face with chocolates . I was a chatterbox I still am I loved swings and merry go rounds. oh I could never get enough... 15) Hopscotch was my favorite. My favorite thing about my childhood my mother pampering me with cuddles my grandfather smuggling the tasty goodies and sitting on his back as if I had 20)set out to conquer the world. Nana rose was the best she let me be she let me grow and explore. 25) never holding me back. These are some of the Precious things I hold dear. Carefree running wild, full of laughter and uncomplicated childhood. -Janice Raquela Mendonca
the truth about darkness (homage to Billy Ray Belcourt and his numbered poems)
those early days were not so bad,
between the live in aunts and uncles
and short distances to Granny’s house,
I had joy sometimes, too.
(c) r. l. elke
It’s a boring story
Aspirin phenibut and morphine
A few years of pictures
And my first cigarette in weeks
listen until you can’t hear anymore
ignore until you can’t ignore anymore
stay still until you can’t move anymore
feel good until you don’t feel good anymore
Lonely lovesick or amphetamine eyes
Every Single pop song is a lie
Making figures and stories on the bumps on the ceiling,
the cage that protects you from the sky.
Aching burning painful lively desire
and the deathstill freedom of wanting nothing.
The walls turned yellow years ago
and the nights last for days.
Her face is blurry in my memory,
but I still see her long jet-black hair.
When I was a kid sometimes the world looked upside down
And nobody feels as good
as they think they should
And nobody can get to sleep
And nobody wants this to last forever
And nobody wants to die
And even the ghosts are fuckin bored
And everyone wants to go to japan
When I’m near you
Or when we are apart
I see eyes that sparkle &
Eyebrows that tease
Heart shaped lips,
That whisper please …
You voice my deepest desires
Ever so softly, you say,
“Let go. Let me love you,
I can show you the way,
To love you without reservation,
I love you and you can be the same for me
Without question; without hesitation.”
I want to let go.
To show you too, I love only you.
My dreams no longer have an expiration date.
All rights reserved copyright (c) 2019 Natasha Vanover
I close out the world with my headphones
Shining as bright red as a tomato
So I can sustain my love
And also read my book
The lake before me shines like a mirror
The ripples dance with the wind
My hair is blowing with the wind
Despite my overly large headphones
From my bag I pull a mirror
And find my cheeks are now red as a tomato
Putting down my book
I tie back my hair with a band that I love
On the wind I hear the voice that I love
Cruelly brought to me by the wind
I try to return to my book
And coccoon myself again with my headphones
My whole face now red as a tomato
I see he and his now woman in my mirror
Despondent, I smash my mirror
This does not attract the object of my love
He jokes about his woman’s cheeks now red as a tomato
Touched by the same rough wind
I wish I couldn’t hear through the headphones
And raise my eyes to my book
I’ve forgotten where I am in my book
Beneath someone’s feet crunch pieces of mirror
There is a gentle tug on my headphones
I look up to see the face that I love
I had forgotten how beautiful his hair is in the wind
His lips red as a tomato
He offers me a tomato
Asks me about my book
Comments on the wind
Asks about the mirror
All I can say is, “Go away my love.”
Then I pull back on my headphones
I eat the tomato as into the ground he grinds the last bits of mirror
Back to my book as he walks away to love
There is finally a settling of the wind and I am shielded by my headphones
2. Later in my childhood
Alabama we chose to call home.
Instead of snow we had sand
And wildlife liked to roam.
One day while I was out playing
My mother suddenly called to me
She had seen a red fox nearby
She thought it would eat me up with glee.
3. I grew a little older
To the beach I would go
I’d always end up sunburned
Lathered up with aloe.
My friends and I would walk around
Trying to be so cool
When in reality we were burning up
Would have to jump into the pool.
4. In my teenage years
I became awkward, very shy
I couldn’t even walk past folks
And look them in the eye.
I fumbled through the classrooms
I marched with the band
I finally graduated
Was sent out into the land.
Pick up a pen
If you were to draw
From the centre of my forehead
To my fingers and toes
In a single line
You would find no breaks
Lift your hand
If you were to draw
From the top of my head
Down the slope of my back
To my fingertips and heels
In a single stroke
You would find scars