24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The Sun’s heat freezes me
But in the cold I can melt.
Empty eyes, dry hair,
Gaunt face, and hollow stomach,
This is the way I’m supposed to be.
I’ll reach my goal one day
One day I’ll bee 100 pounds,
then 80
then 60.
The goal is never met,
It keeps getting further and further away
The numbers get smaller
But my waist is still to big.
If I reach 0 pounds
Will it be enough?
If I drop dead
Will it finally be enough?
White and grey vapor, the clouds discuss plans
as they drift in the sky and to some eyes paint pictures.
The shadows are ink smears of wisdom and rambling
writ across ground flowers gravel and paper.
Letters with no words and questions with no answer,
the rules that will bend and the suggestions are law.
Wishes and wind whirl in shouts or in whispers.
Sharp bushes shiver and rattle and gossip,
vines show their stems but hide their intentions,
while trees learn and teach that in silence there’s brilliance,
and their branches sway slow, leaves green open drinking
the sun’s beating bright beams, its burns and its kisses.
And the the smell and the heat and the sight and the light
and the air and the touch and the thought are the all
and fullness and absence respond to the awe,
the love and the wonder that uncover, surrounding,
the aching that insists to create or to numb.
The space with no limits and no fixed direction
The portend of time to end soon or never
The beliefs, the guesses,
the convictions, the whatever
the happy and sad
the lost, the had
the girl and the cat
the car and the crash
the no and the maybe
the quiet and loud
the pills and forever
the somewhere
the nowhere
the found
The color the sound
The mystery profound
the fields, the sky, the wall
It is nothing at all.
scoop out the soft parts
with a sharp spoon.
the scraping of metal
on bone proves that you
are becoming. place
the parts of the pumpkin
that make more pumpkins
in a bowl to the side.
carve a smile that finally
shows your light. hope
what is left of you
can keep on living.
Celestial reasoning
resounding madness of a childhood
abstaining from living and thinking
except for that which is ingrained,
not taught, not learned
ingrained into your being
it is what you are
a vessel, a servant, a slave
because heaven is a hierarchy
there can be no other way
spiraling
unspooling
unbecoming what you are
when a like meets a like
the unstoppable potential
energy realized
more than the mean or the mode
far beyond the median
the whole of symbiosis
stardust realized
i know i’ll still fly
even when you clip my wings
i’ve got safety
pins
Sparkle
5 Small Sparkles
7 Falling from the deep blue sky
5 Turned down to stand
7 Conveying love, peace and hope
7 to couples around the globe
(Tanka, hour 4 @Mejia2019)
In the end, will these words
of mine consume me?
Or will it be the worms?
When I go I hope
it’s through my own creation.
My final work
my final gift to the world.
No one
can take it away from me
I’ll use my last warm breath
on a rhyme, if need be.
Mourn not me but instead
what came of my fingers.
We all know it’s what outlives us
fucking alphabet soup.
I met Death when I was only a young girl
His hands were very cold and his eyes were a dark blue, speckled
Like a sky full of stars on a summer night
He was on his way to Maya’s house
Where he would take her brother, the funny one
Who taught us songs with words in them that we weren’t supposed to say
When they took him to the coroner – was it murder or suicide, your honor? –
They cut him open, so that his insides
Would become his outsides
They pulled the layers back, one by one,
And the coroner nodded, as he knew
He would be done for the rest of the day
Before him lay a boy, still and quiet like a bloody angel,
His hands cold, and his eyes wide open: they were a dark blue, speckled
Like a sky full of stars on a summer night
Waiting, soon
Virginia Carraway Stark
On this summer day
the day slowly brightening
from a constenance of gloom
to one of brightness
hope that I’ve cherished
holding swaddled and tight
so that it can’t spread it’s wings
fly away
leaving me bereft
that sweet butterfly has grown
from a dream
to a hope
to a frightening reality
Not everything has to be so hard
even when it becomes clear
that a madman is writing the story of your life
Only then is it safe
to let it fly away safely
my hope born on strong wings
known that My faith is resting strong
Where once I knew only fear
And thought the story of life
Was in the epilogue or over
Now I know
I’m still drying my wings
like that butterfly
free of my chrysalis
but not airborne yet
soon
I hear it in the air
I hear it in the sunbeam
That dries my colorful wings
I hear it in my heart
That we’ll fly away together
Our story is barely begun
I can hardly way
To turn the page
And read our next adventure
So long as we’re together
