24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Don’t know where it all goes
My heart aches for a long haul
For that bus to the mountains
For that sand under my toes
I want to collect shells again
Just want to walk on the shore
It has become monotonous now
Doing the same things again and again
I am a free bird
I like to dance in the rain
I want to float with fish
Experience the nature again
I was born to live on my own terms
Not for someone to be tamed…
A Response to Bed in Summer
(By Robert Louis Stevenson, from Child’s Garden of Verse)
As a child I saw your words,
Things fell into place.
You spoke as a child to a child,
And I heard
The mystery of the earth turning its seasons
And the injustice of infancy
Your words sat in me
Seeds that took root, that eternally grow
Dear Future Son,
I shall always be a cracked mirror
An imperfect rolemodel
Yet I hope that from my mangled complexion
You may take unconditional love
Dear husband
I may have told you a few times
How much I love you
But no amount of words
Can ever do justice to my feelings for you
The way your presence makes me blush
The warmth of you being near me
Is undescribable
I love u from all my heart and soul
She, seated on the bed
might it have been half-past five? she said
separated from what was to be
arteries, body ticking like a watch’s plea.
A double march going
crime on one side, justice knowing
tho’ not afraid, shuddered she
of what was surely soon to be.
Assailed by adventure unforeseen
the day produced a hazy dream,
to persuade it was a nightmare, so
moon disengaged from foggy bow
and light, mingled with fallen snow
Now twas light thru chamber hinge
a hole shining with reddish tinge
bloody, but not by a candle
not a sound, not a soul was moving, able.
No speaking, not a single breath
silence glacial, profound, and death
were it not for light in there
now next to a sepulchre, where
she seemed to say a little prayer.
A lower door on hinges turned
a heavy step on staircase, hastened
the hovel’s eerie latch had lifted
something on the table shifted
and at once the horrid dream,
like flour sifted.
-Sandra Johnson, 6/22/19
Note: I love both the prompts 23 and 24 of the Hour 19 … so please let me write poems on both prompts !
Prompt 23 – Rewriting Beginning and End poem with a positive vibe…**************
In the beginning there was Darkness…
In the end Light awakened Darkness from its deep slumber
In the beginning there was Infinity…
In the end there is Infinity times Infinity
In the beginning there was Negative and Positive in Equal Balance…
In the end Negative and Positive have become One Immense Power
In the beginning there was an Order to the Universal Chaos…
In the end the Chaos manifested itself into Universal Order
In the beginning there was Creation…
In the end there will still be Creation
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Prompt 24 – Pick a poem by another author and then write a poem as a response to it – Here I have chosen a funny little poem by an Indian author and poet P. L. Deshpande, who was fondly called Pu.La. for short, who wrote mostly in the Marathi language which happens to be my mother tongue. The translation of the poem and my response to it is as below: ******************************
I said to the setting Sun,
“See you again Tomorrow”,
And the Sun asked me,
“Are you Sure?”,
The Sun thinks that I am too old, to see another day’s light,
But I think the Sun is older than me,
Perhaps it is he who will not make it through another night !
My Response to both the Sun and the Poet: ————-
The World needs both the Poet and the Sun,
For, if it wasn’t for the Sun, who will bathe the Poet’s mind in creative light?
And if it wasn’t for the Poet, who will glorify the Sun in verse and song?
(In response to W.H. Auden’s Their Lonely Betters)
Words are for those with promises to keep.
Our forte of language causes us to weep
We create worlds and homes built from letters
Between us and the wild, our lonely betters.
We are the only who can grasp the fragile time
We can find love through an internal rhyme
And make art from the romanticization of dying
If we said we would trade this for silence we’d be lying.
Yet I see the flowers who are naturally mated
No fuss and words and neither have waited.
Only if the bees who spread the pollen knew
What troubles from the search of love can put you through.
I envy the natural serenade of the birds
They give us songs that need not words
A whim of their own, it’s how they are made
We’re missing the message in our lonely shade.
the other side
The man was okay. Wasn’t he?
He might have been able to help.
Instead he’s stormed off somewhere.
We both seem dazed.
Standing around listlessly.
We should decide. Risk petrol.
Or just go.
Out of nowhere, the man reappears
Now pointing a gun. I scream.
Wish I could say I don’t
But I do. Ryan acting tough.
I’m not hearing anything
Trying to talk him down.
Put the gun away.
Asking if he’ll let us go.
One of you maybe.
He looks at me. Suddenly creepy.
How could I have ever/
Ryan saying okay
getting out the keys
I can’t believe/
Throws them past the guy.
First thought, he was aiming at him
He grabs me.
I’m dragged behind, hand clutching his
Don’t want to let go.
Don’t want to fall over.
But the keys, I splutter
My house keys, hurry hurry.
We both fall in. Almost easily.
He starts the ute, pulls away.
Feel terrible I doubted him.
Can’t believe. I actually thought he’d/
Gunshots. Louder than they ought.
But I think they missed. By a long way.
Shotgun pellets would scatter widely
At this range.
Drive in silence for a long time.
Want to say sorry.
But he won’t know what for.
The moon has risen high tonight. Although it wanes, it still shines bright. Energized by its lunar light, I bask in moon glow as I write.
Dear Sandi, as a teenage dreamer
the first man you love is not a keeper
the art school path was just passé
instead a four year college may
win a better job today
You need not look like models fair
a thousand calorie diets beware
you’re imperfect, but never fear
weight is not the problem, dear
How you look it matters not
back then you’ll see what you now ought
that diets don’t work, no matter what
just three meals a day
and overeat, do NOT.
Learn from errors, love carefully
be the kindest you can be
linger not in past or future
wasted time is all a blur.
Just live for today, and may
you always pray and stay
reminded always of this tome
so when someday wrongs go then
just start anew, begin again.
-Sandra Johnson, 6/22/19