24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Parents should know better.
About who they leave their children with.
Perhaps they didn’t even care?
Answers would be nice
Regret, if truthful, would be appreciated.
Acknowledgement might even help.
Praying it would end.
Everything so twisted.
Dying inside.
My mother knew he did it before.
Evil comes in deceptive packages.
Wooden floors that bend and creak,
cracks in the floor,
countless layers of paint
on the windows and baseboards.
Black and white tiles
in the kitchen
with faux wooden counters,
bright windows line half the walls.
Our first chosen home on our own,
since our friends moved away.
We picked it together
and moved our stuff in side-by-side.
You sleep next to me
and our dog sleeps by our sides.
We do laundry and sweep
and wash the dishes.
This is our home.
between the blinds a
moonbeam
highlights my coffee cup
steam rising in a hush
the screen door is locked from the inside
wet concrete sidewalk begging for a heart with some letters
the young fir tree
your book on my shelf
an empty rowboat banging against the dock
I am the kind if girlfriend who learns your Buttons
I know when it is okay to have some fun and push them.
I know when you’re not in the mood to play and this best to keep my button pushing at bay.
Tonight, I’m not trying to send you over the edge, but this here outfit is designed to send men and women, too over the edge
Couple it with my words put together to create vivid imagery…
I’m secretly pleading this isn’t the button that makes you call it quits
Cause I’m not playing games and I’m not trying to push any buttons
And I hope you remember, that it’s your shit I want to deal with
And no one elses.
But for now, it is time for the show and I’ve gotta go.
friends
my friends are godsent
heaven made
full of stardust and sunlight
truly otherworldly
their strength is better than the best wifi connection
their love is warmer than an overheated iphone
this support stronger than the u.s. backing israel
my friends are earth shakers
home makers
i am so lucky to have this village
so lucky to have this chosen family
Dear Roy Mark
You were brought to the world
With sheer idealism
Slowly you came to realize its otherwise
Forging time with life see the walls of lies
Threshing out the truth among the heart
Slowly the mind phantom of what is truly essentials
Look into the hard truths in every situation
Always look for the sliver lining in its limits
Kindling the heart to anew for new resolution
(Dear former self prompt)
Prompt # 14 Hour # 11
7:00 AM PHT 23/06/2019
Dear Me,
I know you cannot possibly comprehend
That I am your future
But trust me, I am
I see the choices you have before you
And I urge you
That when the time comes to choose
You make the choice that is right
Not the choice that is easy
While it may not seem like it now
It will impact every aspect of your life
For the rest of your life
I love you and
I need you to love yourself
And never
Never stop pursuing your dreams
With unparalleled love,
Me (your future self, 2019 Version)
(Book 99 #19337)
A spoonful of foggy dreams
from a shelf made of fir
Pour into your cup of coffee
‘Twill make you come alive
And do not forget
to add a sliver of moonbeam
Now, you can handle anything
Concrete or unseen
SCREWED!
Damn coffee is thick as concrete
Wish I had grabbed my canteen off of the shelf
A little extra kick it holds would help break this fog I am in.
Writing from the edge of the dock seemed poetic at the time
I could write about the moonbeams disturbing the hush of the water’s edge.
Oh hell there is a skunk looking at me from behind the fir tree.
I AM SCREWED!!
gone with the wind
_______________________
she appreciates the concrete –
terra firma beneath her feet
the fir-lined horizon
a welcome sight
after so long at sea –
a wandering bark
blue on blue
for months on end
(interrupted only by a hush
of whispers in the fog)
no place to dock
until today – now she stands
coffee and a moonbeam
in hand, the canteen
teeming with fishermen
buying tackle and bait
but they’ll have to wait,
put their advances on the shelf
with her coffee cup –
only the wind at her back
(that damn sea-spray
calling her by name)
only the wind at her back
– always leaving