24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
36 CORN RD. (PART 3) – UNCLE DAVEY
U unbelievably underrated, undoubtedly unique
N never neglected a nephew or niece
C casual, comical, character and clown
L laughing and loving all over town
E epic, endearing, engaging and more
D Davey, dear Davey
A admired, adored
V very valued, a Veteran
E eagle-eyed too
Y youthful yesteryear’s, yearning for you.
Dear Saint Tony,
Yes, I know you are annoyed
At the title ‘saint’
I do this on purpose
Knowing you will be annoyed
It tickles me
To know this will annoy you
In the afterlife
I do this to remember your fire
To catch the echoes of it
The rants against artifice
And quiet insistence
In pointing out injustice
No one will get out unscathed
And everyone will take responsibility
I do this to remember your acceptance
You walked into huts and buildings and palaces
You walked holy ground
You walked battlefields
You walked hunting trails
You walked escape routes
Everyone allowed to be exactly who they were
I do this to remember your curiosity
People you met yesterday
Invited you to try new foods
They took you into kitchens
And you marveled at process and ingredients
Every strange and new thing
Was met with a desire to know
I do this to remember your sincerity
Young chefs placed dishes before you
My bet their hearts skipped a beat
As you called them ‘chef’ with the same tone
As those seasoned and experienced
You greeted the recovering addict and the world leader
With the same deference and respect
I do this because
You’re not here
So I try to keep my fire
I strive to be accepting
I hold onto curiosity
And struggle to remain sincere
To be at least half the human being you were
Dear Saint Tony in your mercy
Hear my prayer
As she touched her pale skin, it felt wrinkled and dry,
The woman realized how her back ached and her feet became sore as she walked about.
Etherial morning
An enormous wave grows
on the horizon
The sun came up
Birds cheered up
The dawn happened everyday
But this one was new
It was her day
Unlike other days before..
I want a love like hers.
It’s happy,
They travel,
It’s perfect.
I want to meet someone like him,
So, I can see
The other side
Where the grass is so green.
I want to be something other
Than me
In love
With someone
Different
Than you
With no problems
In a perfect
Life,
With a perfect home.
Where we can laugh together
Forever.
No tears, no hardships
Just perfectly posed
Pictures
With nothing to fear.
Her husband reminds her to go to the store.
She goes, holding her purse.
She browses the clearance aisle.
And suddenly, the world spins.
Colors blur.
Her body resembles an earth quake.
Walls go up in her head.
And she can’t remember
how to breathe.
She had fought the darkness for so long,
pulling her under
as if the sky has fallen.
Her thoughts were arrows pointing at her,
tearing her down,
shot after shot.
Until she wonders who she is.
What is left.
She can’t remember how to break out.
All she knows is the way back home.
I want to do something meaningful
But what?
I want to be happy
But how?
With so many options
How do I decide?
I’m tired and frustrated
But why?
I want to travel
But where?
All of these questions and no answers
Where do I start?
Locked out, I've returned with hopes of homecoming, but have found I've been erased, blocked out. Empty spaces where once I played have been transformed by frocked business people with stern, gray faces which seem to ridicule and mock those childhood dreams. These are the same friends from my youth, their hearts have hardened in the cruelest rock formations. Days of strife and distrust have locked their innocence away.