24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
All the colors …
All the pain …
And the psychedelic warms;
my image grows clearer …
Oh glory, I am starting too see …
me!
The unknown artist found me …
amongst the mess;
the road less …
the hidden woman;
the death of her …
the birth of me!
An image of she …
whom
is beginning
to be.
I was
not born
to kneel to
the chaos
within me
I was born to,
rule it.
Poem from The Wild Keeps Her Holy by Tiffany Aurora.
For all I
have seen
have been
and will be,
Their crown
cannot shatter me.
C. Churchill
Standing outside
The cool wind makes me shiver
The darkness envelopes me
The clouds make the shadows flicker
The night gets deeper.
I close my eyes
I smell the rain in the air
I smell the damp grass
I smell new construction
The night is fuller.
I walk slowly
The fatigue makes me sway in place
My entire form feels limp
My mind tries to shut down.
The night gets longer.
I stand still
The birds have gone to bed
The rabbits are all resting
The dog is sound asleep
The night continues on.
It has been decided, we will create Earth.
“How shall we proceed?”
Start with a good sized Star, not too big.
Bright and nourishing.
“Yes, sir.”
The process was swift, a sprinkling of stardust.
Pressed in the hands of the keepers of the Cosmo’s.
The Sun was born.
Creative liberty was taken as the process went along.
Neighboring planets were crafted to keep Earth humble, pique their curiosity.
“Sir, it’s time.”
The final step had to be performed by me and me alone.
Water, for nourishment, land for living.
A good distance from the Sun.
And the last step, it’s inhabitants.
Hand me the box.
I lightly dust the planet with chaos.
And now we wait.
Why have your dyed your long locks a color not your own?
Soul Sister…
Moon Maiden…
Flower Child…
Why do you look away?
From the world?
Into the phone?
You are surrounded by beauty.
Can you see it?
You are in a purple haze that surrounding you.
A multitude of kaleidoscopic hues engulf your being.
An aura of the highest indigo chakra is vibrating around you.
Walk out of the screen and join reality…
All rights reserved copyright (c) 2019 Natasha Vanover
She wore silk and issued citations
To asses and pulled fools from
mangled messes of their own creation.
And he dreamed constantly of her perfume.
Her beauty is ethereal
gossamer smiles softly serene, yet teasing
Her eyes are moons eclipsed and dark
magical in appearance
Her hair shines softly in the light
and glows and scents the evening scenes
Words cannot describe in justice the kindness and compassion she freely gives
to all creatures, indeed all beings, her charity is celestial bound
soft are the caresses of her lips on your ear, gentle is her speech
a bright and timely manner is always evident
She never falters in her grace
her countenance is stable anyone would love to love
this girl if they are able
Dear Future Michael,
Starla is trying
Please don’t begrudge her the long hours,
or the overflowing emotions. Those
are why you fell for her in the first place.
A “colorful” girl with a crazy perspective,
no truer partner could she have found,
than you.
She knows you’re tired. She’s tired too.
The pair of you built a life together
pulled straight from the ashes of
your social lives and your time to sleep.
Keep working together. There’s nothing
you do better.
She loves you. As much as the day you met.
Much more, in fact, because
that love grows each day. Every time you
hold her, kiss her, cheer her up
after a bad day,
she remembers what it felt like
to be seventeen and head over heels for
you and only you.
You are an amazing man. You have made her
a happy woman, something she thought
she would never be.
You are loved.
You are SO appreciated.
You are the man of her dreams.
Thank you Mike.
Murder City
Aptly named
Never pretty
Never tamed
Kill the guards
Kill the men
Hi risk hi rewards
Just avoid the children
Once a refuge, now it’s not,
Once a safehouse, now you’re shot
Murder City
Aptly Named
Returning Safely
Never the Same
There were days as a child,
My mind would fill with wonder
At blue sky, green trees, rainfall
And heavy summer light that
Wrapped you tight and kept you.
But now? Y
Too much clutter, not enough
Of dancing alone and shower singing.
Fear of personal thought, judgement
And loss, but I’m learning.
I’m just a fool learning to live again.