24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The blackest hair I’ve ever seen.
(rosy cheeks just right
hairs peeking from the top of your shirt
a belly~button I can only imagine…)
lips the purest form of yes
(~but saying no.)
Your eyes, though,
they wander…
If I stand still long enough
they can see me
down deep inside
where I’m all bits and pieces.
I wonder exactly what they saw
which caused them to run
screaming from me…
(even though I search
with my own eyes
for the answers to you…)
I am locked out.
Here I am, with all hope well gone
Of ever escaping this trap;
No home, no car, no money–
Alone; my faith as been zapped.
How will I ever move forward?
Deep fear and despair grip my heart.
I only expect falling downhill,
And I’m looking forward to naught.
Is there any hope for a sad song?
Can there be relief from dismay?
Can charity give way to joyful?
Can love make a difference today?
Put one foot in front of the other.
Take a step; no matter how small,
To pull yourself out of your doldrums–
This trap’s door surely will fall.
There are people around who are smiling;
Latch on, and learn well their life.
See what they have that brings joy,
Then set new goals in your sight.
Make your own luck and create your own opportunities.
Live
Art is just your self expression, what do you want?
Free
In a dream I can fly; we took a plane to visit grandma.
Will
How are You? A beauty in silence and we smile.
Love
Emotionless, narrow minded, cold at heart, a misconception.
Idea
Thoughts from dreams turned reality, by Your Will.
Still busy… So it’s another haiku for now…
Pink, Yellow, Blue, White
Hearts of stone; to feel is flaw
Coldness is beauty
A single touch is all it takes,
To make sparks fly,
And cause nerves to quake,
A wave of your wand,
And I’m head over heels,
And I can’t breathe, once your light has shone onto me,
Like pulling a rabbit out off a hat,
You bring out the magic in me,
You bring out the magic in me
I used to pretend that I don’t give a fuck
But I do
(Sometimes a little too much)
Thoughts drift to that first cloud of sulphur-smelling tear gas
The defiant linking of arms against gas-masked riot line
Sneering at disperal orders
Black bandana dancing to pounding bucket drums
Giving a fuck can fuck you
Sitting in a bus full of mass arrestees
Makes you wonder
Wonder if it’s worth it
If this is having any impact at all,
These protests and rallies,
These awareness campaigns,
The shutdowns and occupations
We testify,
Watch the state deny and it’s back to the streets, march, chant, demand, repeat
Until Justice is reached
There will be no peace
But so many still sleep…
Can’t we all just give a little fuck?
Just a little?
It’ll ease the burden of those of us who do give a fuck
(Sometimes a little too much)
There’s only so much fuck one person can give,
And giving too much sucks
Sucks the energy, saps the soul
It’s a heavy price for empathy,
For giving a fuck about things outside of your control
I can’t pretend to not give a fuck
Because I do
Sometimes a little too much
It tastes like grit against your teeth and ash upon your tongue. It feels a lot like broken bones and torn muscles from a boxing fight.
Humiliating, Pitiful endless agony, and a learning curve Feels like being stuck with no way to make a way. So you grovel in your existence. You start building a house and making yourself comfortable. ____________ If there's a rebel within you, start a revolution. Shout out to the stars asking for help to provide you with direction, To help make things clearer and easier. All your power and advantage is used against you, Rewiring you to think and act differently. But, the thing that gets me the most is we as humans are designed to be a superior creation, so our problems are not simple. and the solutions are often complicated and not complied. But, still despite it all, we cling to our hopes, we define ourselves by the amount of successes and trophies that decorate our shelves. How come we don't define ourselves and measure our worth based on how many lessons we learned from the countless failures we accumulate but, never seem to acknowledge their existence. It's the mentality that needs to change our attitude our perception. Only then can we unstuck ourselves from rock bottom, moving upwards. Growing, blossoming to be better versions of ourselves. I believe so long as each one of us are living we are bound to make mistakes, we must learn from them. We must ornate our shelves with the lessons we have learned, from the mistakes we have made. The day you die the lesson is over. Life itself is the biggest lesson. It teaches you everything you were destined to learn in your crazy lifetime. -Janice Raquela Mendonca
When I die, there will be no traffic jam,
no escort, no police in my parade.
I do not want a single mother
to be late picking up her child
from a private school she can
barely afford. I do not want a passing
middle-aged accountant to be late
for his family dinner, for his children
to eat in silence, wishing he were
home. I want to learn how to take
up space while I am alive, to dance
sober with the lights on, to break into
song without worrying about my voice
sitting too high in my throat. I want
to wring every sweet note from this life,
crack its bones wide open and suck out
the marrow. I want to die with a list
of accomplishments too large to fit
onto any stone, the correct name
etched into my obituary.
Image courtesy of EliasSch of Pixabay
For the umpteeth time I try
to feel my way out of this hell;
this box where I can hardly breathe or move…
And for the umptheenth time
I feel nothing;
there’s no way out;
I have effectively been shut in
and I’m stuck…
When ever will this hold be lifted?
When ever will I be rid of of this force
that will not release me…?
Emotionally depleted, I
look inward once again
and send a message
to nobody in particular…
“I need help. Please rescue me.”
A sudden force wells up from deep inside me
and in one last attempt,
I break free, float up and up
and reach the light at the top of the box.
“I’m free!” I yell over and over…
Realization dawns upon me
that I am free because I broke free;
that all I needed was my own strength
to conquer the giant that wouldn’t release me
Antoinette Leroux © 2019
THAT NIGHT
I remember the harsh words
The fever pitch screaming
The need to flee and find a place
Of peace.
I drove away
Not knowing where to go
Just following the painted lines on the asphalt
Reflecting in the moonlight.
Or maybe
Reflected in the tears in my eyes.
I don’t really know.
Darkness plays tricks with your vision.
In a pull off by the river
Hidden from view in the black of night
Away from prying eyes
I found my peace.
But the peace was not in that place.
Not in the tears, the car,
The cover of night.
My peace was in you.
I drove fiercely back,
Following those same reflective lines,
The asphalt flying by like a jet stream.
Home to our door.
I remember the love that steered my heart home,
The frantic need to throw open the door
And run madly into your arms.
To say I was sorry, and that you were everything.
But the door was locked.
Your heart was locked.
And the key would never again
Be mine to find.