24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
As I sit by the window, I realise
How time has changed a lot
From where I once saw hills,
I now see tall buildings touching the sky
From where I once saw grass
I now see parking for the cars
From where I once saw clouds of rain
I now see clouds of dust and smoke
It feels like nature has suddenly become broke
And we are the ones who made it broke
The swell of my heart is a pale fragility
passing for life found quiet
beneath a gently nestled river stone.
Accompanied by my subterranean neighbors
infected with less than aesthetic features:
spineless, many-legged, permeable skin.
Lowly inhabitants to keep
my lonely heart company.
How dare she lift that stone,
so perfectly were we
in the mud and wet earth,
I, my heart, the worms, and the dirt.
She, bringing sunshine and oxygen
making my woodlice friends scramble for cover.
And me, stumbling blindsided by her light,
with an idiot’s stare,
too ignorant to follow my friends,
too dumb to know when to run.
Baffled by her strange glow.
We churn out our fears onto paper and into music
We believe what we must to stay distracted and self-assured
We all want others to listen
We all want to be heard
We all take a little too much
We all wish we had more to give
We all want to love and be loved
We all wish we knew what love really means
We all wish we weren’t so damn alone
We all want the light to blind us
We all try to keep our darkness hidden away
We are all afraid
It’s not enough
It still doesn’t work
Something is wrong
but no one knows what
We all blame it on someone else
or blame too much on ourselves
We are all still animals
We all are hungry
We all chase what we cannot have
We all want something from you
Glancing at the city, busyness awaits
Reaching for some peacefulness, beyond the iron gates
Everyone is rushing, no time to smell the flowers
Entering a greenspace, where you can spend many hours
Nothing but the fragrance of flowers in the air
Singing very joyfully, the birds swoop with flair
Pacing across the length of this oasis, hidden away
Accepting of the quiet, which calms your crazy day
Challenging the people, to cherish peace, not race
Everyone then can enjoy, this amazing greenspace.
An oasis is located
at the center of my heart
Past tall buildings and busy streets
there is a calm
a place to reflect
flip pennies for wishes
And still
the world screaming from the outside
C. Churchill
Almost home free…
Due to.my lacklustre performance this year, my revision process is going to be more of a full rewrite.
But for now, another haiku before breakfast with my beau.
Let me in your soul
There’s a secret in your eyes
I so wish to know
There’s a sort of mischief in the night
Where breezes blow,
And tickle our imaginations:
There might be monsters under our beds,
Or fairies tapping on windows,
But with this night,
Comes a peculiar scratch on my car,
That wasn’t there before.
Perhaps it is they
Playing a joke they can get away with,
Melting away without explanation.
This is where I belong.
Here.
In these woods.
The screen door told me so,
Then the bears and the deer
and the birds.
The mice tried to tell me otherwise,
but after much discussion, we came to an arrangement.
This is where I belong
at least for now
and for as long
as the forest creatures
will have me.
For the first time in my life,
I want to be Snow White –
I want to walk through these woods
and have all the forest creatures
walk along beside me.
And while not a deal breaker,
I wouldn’t mind 7 men with tools
to lend 14 hands!
When you close your eyes
What do you see?
Do you picture your future
The dream house
The dream family
Do you picture a career
Your life
Your success
Now what does that look like?
It’s different for you
Everyone dreams different
So let me in
I don’t just want to know your dreams
But I want to know your fantasy
When you close your eye are you prepared?
Prepared to see you future
To see and plan and feel your desires
Things are going to happen
Get ready
Open your eyes
It’s time to dream
*But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would our story be one worth watching? The interplay of hearts
struggling to pull some meaning from the love they gave away.
Then coming together again, years after the war had receded,
to find that same spark which ignited a lifetime together.
Oh, what sweet day, to fall helpless at love’s unveiling.
To arrive once again, at the beginning
with a heart folded like tempered steel, reopened to its core,
laid bare so that its soft center may
be strummed by her familiar touch.
*First line from T.S. Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock