24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Apples, Berries, Roses, herbs
bound with string and ribbon,
hide the hint of decay.
Satin, Velvet, Cotton, oak
tucked in and around a box
made to take love away.
Sobbing, Whispers, Tip-toe, grief
made all pretty for those
forced to deal with the day.
Ritual, Habits, Ceremony
humane acts, over time, muting truth
and the reason for the nosegay.
These past few weeks have had me thinking I hadn’t done anything right.
Friends, partners and associates, alike had me questioning if the path I was on, was the right flight.
I, who had love for everyone, couldn’t understand-
This abandonment that came from no where, yet seemed orchestrated and planned.
Great care was taken as every detail of my demise was checked off and executed with great precision.
A lesser man would have succumb to your withdrawl-
Started feening for your affections
Like a slave in chains begs to be free and an addict clamors for the next fix…
But wisdom is more powerful than all that.
And He used this very thing to grab my attention-
Where once it was had, he failed not to mention
All the places I was going and the success I am destined to be.
He reminded me that those I had once held in high esteem had to leave
For this next level, had no room for the haters who used to keep me company.
I am a shining star, getting ready to shoot out of this galaxy
So to those that thought me a flower, who would whither and die
Here is a chair. Pull one up.
Have several seats.
And enjoy the feast
Prepared especially for you.
You’re in for a special treat
So get ready to see how your hate and disdain has become the fuel that makes me great.
And remember this Queen doesn’t cower to whispered conferences held behind backs or chambers I’ve not been invited in.
I guess only one of us knows what it is to be called this and lives by it’s TRUE definition.
Life is full of tempting fruit,
Enough to fill each day.
But in the end
Its all the same—
It rots; We fly away.
Yes, that was a cheater, but chemo says I need some down time; here’s to ‘lingering’ on the pillow for half an hour.
With a series of follies
She was to agonize
But otherwise
She was, One amongst the Wise
With the sparkle in her eyes
Unseen were her tries
And a mouth full of lies
Unheard were her cries
To the broken ties
She said goodbyes
But love never dies
She was made, just to rise
Unending were her flies
Infinite were her skies
Limitless were her spies
Years together, she was in guise
Unlike many a guys
Never did she compromise
Supernal were her highs
All she did, was, without sighs
Late did she realize,
Fate for her had a surprise;
Everything comes with a price
And On her knees she had to apologize
Yet it is a reprise;
Again, she lives her life king size
Her follies met a demise
And watching the sunrise
She’s all butterflies!
Wargames to the table
Bring friends together
Our minds we will test
The tactics we use
To bring victory
To the plan best thought
I scroll through all the pictures, Trying to decipher their messages. Trying to really see them, yet Uncomprehending what they mean. A photo of a boat on the azure water catches my eye. Immediate, visceral outrage Oil spilling on the pristine waters. (Oil spills are the only context in which ‘pristine’ is used anymore. Why can’t they pollute polluted water instead?) My rage is distracted by my reflection in the screen. It’s been a little over a week and I’m still not sure if I like my hair cut this way. I have spikes and horns enough for a dragon. I take my device inside To stop seeing my reflection Expanding the picture to feel The anger inside once again. My thumb and finger slide away from each other to reveal that the picture is of a boat moored near coral. There is no oil spill. Never mind.
Dead from the inside I am numb. A complete shut down unresponsive to the external. Immovable, life wasting away. Tired eyes and hungry heart all dead in a row. No thirst to quench no dreams to conquer powerless in one way powerful in another - nothing affects me. Nothing to lose, no fear, no feelings, no attachment, no sorrow, Just the bottomless pit of nothingness -encroaching.
Overtaking... overcoming... infectious and familiar
It feels comfortable, I am doomed anyway, Damned if I do, Damned if I don't. Hopelessness looms like a shadow. Wasted life, Wasted years, The Pointlessness of the point, at the edge of reason and lingering disappointment. Far from any harm, removed and isolated detached and unemotional, I let that shit go. Only to dive deep Head first into the chaos of living. The madness of emotions. The passage through life. I am waking up, Undoing these chains that have held me down for far too long. I am becoming human. I am living. I open the doors and let it surge. -Janice Raquela Mendonca
you nagging sparrows, stay away!
see my eyes, watching always.
see my trophies, certificates, grades.
see my pride, demons, stay away!
do not look too close, I pray.
do not see this painted fraud.
do not see my scales and pride
crumbling slightly under stress.
see these colors! they mean poison!
see my smile, it means I’m fine.
see the forest, not the trees.
pay no attention to those rotting leaves.
do not touch the butterfly:
you will cripple its wings forever.
do not inspect my state of mind:
this facade is holding me together.
36 CORN ROAD
PART 2 – AUNT IMOGENE
She was never just sitting there, waiting for us
She knew we were coming
But that couldn’t keep her from
The work at hand
Chores to her, but her legacy to others
Who would be the first to find her?
Sweet Aunt Imogene, earth mother
Would she be working in the garden
Tending to her rooted accomplishments
Her labor of love that would nourish us time and again
Would she be in the hen house?
Gathering eggs in her work worn apron
Or taking the “last walk” with one she had nurtured
Who would now take its place at the dinner table
Or more correctly put, “on” the dinner table
By the pleasant twitch of my nostrils
I would gather she was in her kitchen
A place so small and dark with coal dusted floors
Yet a place that brought about warmth and love
AND BISCUITS!!
The vibrant colors of her beautiful harvest
Made even the oldest of porcelain dishes
Come to life like a finely crafted painting
But one for our consumption, not just for viewing
DID I MENTION HER APPLEBUTTER?
When she felt we had our fill
And the empty vessels cleaned and put back in their place
Behind the curtained cupboards,
She would take us out for an adventure
What would it be this time?
Would we canvass the hills for the perfect
Leaves and nuts, or butterflies for our school projects
Or would we go digging for old bottles
Blue ones, green ones, clear ones, ones with labels or corks
What had been in them, who left them behind for us to find?
Or would we be so lucky to have her share
Her button collection
Tin after tin, dumped out on the creaky feather bed
She knew where she found that black one or the one
That looked like it came from a movie star’s dress.
Always a story, now a great memory.
It was time to go
But we never left empty handed.
A trip to the root cellar, though scary
With the possibility of interrupting a snake’s nap,
Always ended with a basket of jarred goodness
The best of her…..home with us
Until we needed, more correctly, wanted, to come back for more.
More food, more adventures, more Aunt Imogene.
I miss her!
The Clock Strikes One
As I countdown
Until I can see you.
No more,
Skype,
Chats, or texts
To keep us connected
While you work.
I will see you
Again.
Not a photo, but you.
My love.
Heart and soul,
We’ll be skin to skin.
Heartbeats and breath
Keeping time.
I wait for you.
And I would for a lifetime.
I’d yearn for you,
But I’d wait.
Love, so fierce,
So strong
No matter our distance from each other.
I long for it to be done.
So, I can show you
Our love.
Is still as strong.
Unbroken by what had to be.