24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Crystal waters lap at my feet
I lay watching the stars
Looking for the stories they tell
Heros and monsters of simple times
Shining from deep blue
Throwing light to the pale water
My breath loud as thunder in such quiet
I really liked the stary mountain picture and the ocean one under it. So I tried to include a little of both in the poem. (Also doing my best to be on time)
I’m on my second now. My first ended on the sandy shores of an ocean of despair.
Approaching the rocks, a woman stood idly by nursing the wounds of the offspring who recently emerged from obscurity. Think nothing of it and move on.
The shockwaves of existence rattle through your bones as the world stops to let you off. The frigid water engulfs you in a torrent of pain as all the misery comes flooding back to you in one fell swoop. Every word starts running through your head: anguish, purgatory, existential ambiguity.
The laws of nature prevent you from extricating yourself in full force. As you stumble back into your tawdry and ever-so-surreal existence, it becomes all the more apparent you’re not alone in more ways than one. Every step you take is another bullet rattling around in your memory as you make the sweet escape, never looking back on what might have been, not that you’d ever be able to in the first place.
This is where we stand for better or worse and right now maybe that’s the only thing we really need.
Bandage my fingers
Virginia Carraway Stark
The road is at my feet again
I take a tentative step forward
I can’t wait to see
How each time I crest
Each new horizon
I fall in love
With every view
Again and again
And how there are the very few things
that never change
for if they did
the adventure wouldn’t be worth trip
hand in hand
ask me never
if I need your hand on mine
to make life worth living
or the spirit of adventure in my ever step
I remember the swans
floating on that stream
the one where I wore the llama shawl
and we plucked our first dreams
from weeping willows
trailing branches
broken fingers in the current of never ending delights
Examining each flower for perfection
finding it and it was more than enough
to leave it to grow and exhale
We are pioneers of love
of life
though they slapped our hands
and tried to break our fingers
Our children have become plentiful
Swimming behind us in a line of love
Don’t ever give up
I’m sometimes a bit slow
I trip on my love
as I drag my broken fingers in the stream
This is where we saw the sun rise
Land of unfettered dreams
Bandage my hands for me
make me whole again
then I’ll be what you imagined
and you’ll be all I dreamed of too
it can be like a movie
where there are clean sheets
and the movie is over
a new movie begins
it’s the land of new stories beginning
this old ones stale and done
She thought she needed more
than who she was.
She did not see the things
that she was capable of.
Like a garden long forgotten
in full bloom
she had a beauty
that not even she knew.
-h.e.m. 12 pm
We’re old enough to recognize
how wise and cool we are,
and young enough to apply
our wisdom almost almost
forever.
J. Pratt-Walter
6/22/2019
Darkness
Dementors
Dejection
Join hands in tandem
Happiness
Ameliorators
Affection
Swim faraway ibidem
He might be here tomorrow
He might not (more…)
I got a baby sister when I was four
But like a lot of former “only children” do
I didn’t want her for very long or to have any more.
Now she is my very best friend and I am hers, too.
We moved away to a tiny town
Into a tiny house while daddy built ours.
In a cow pasture on the road two lots down,
Grown green and alive with wildflowers.
My favorite show was Puffnstuff.
I watched it every day.
Jimmy, with his British voice, seemed tough
Because of his magic flute, that’s what I chose to play.
Daddy didn’t hurt me anymore after this year.
Whether he started on my sister then, I am not very clear.
an ode to my body
i say a prayer to my skin every morning
a ritual of water, lotion, & lavender essential oil
candles lit
hymns flowing around me
recognition of my divinity
taking inventory of the terrain
the varying hues of brown
eczema scars (meaning delicate)
stretch marks (meaning growth)
uneven tan lines (meaning sun kissed)
hair everywhere society tells me it shouldn’t be (meaning fuck you)
i said a prayer to my
body this morning
when i shaved my head
when i let go of my small curls
let go of my larger worries
this isn’t a love/hate relationship
these bones can’t afford to harbor anymore hate
but love isn’t always easy
in love there are still apologies
still insecurities
in love there is still harm
but most importantly there is always softness
always care
The dream fades
into a crimson fog
of faces without
hearts, smiles
of lost intention.
The dreamer drifts
into another mirage,
a wisteria tunnel
folds into itself.
A heart awakens
to a surrender of tears,
forgiveness placed on
the quiet side of
a locked door.
Consuming fire across the hall
Burning papers everywhere
Turbulent heat feeling around the room
Fumes of old gas as if I am gasping for more breathe
Trying to escape from this imminent madness of fire
Walls falling down and top of the roof falling apart
Flames everywhere
Fumes smells
Wrecking sound of falling debris
Where am I going to
Time in its passage
Ought to do
Get out of the place really fast
Still am I alive
Really alive
Alive
Prompt # 6 Hour # 05
1:00 AM PHT 23/06/2019