24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I invited you to my place
to drink a tea together.
I liked you and wanted to
be with you, but you told me
clearly that you came for tea only.
I was so disappointed that I swore to myself
that I’ll never again invite a man to tea!
It’s better to sip a coffee in town on a neutral
ground than to be offended in your own house!
I look out of my window
It’s near sunset
The sky coloured with
Different hues of blue and orange
With just a hint of black.
The day seems to be turning in
To go to sleep
In the comfort of night
But let me just stay for a while
As I write one last time.
One last time, let my emotions flow
Let my scars be revealed in light
Let my happiness reach you
Let me cry through verses
One last time.
Let my gratitude overflow
As my tears find solace in words
Let my feelings reach you
As I bare my soul
One last time….
Let me stay up for just a while
As I write one last time.
The odd alchemy of realizing
You have awoken just in time
Some internal body clock was set
Against every other body clock you have
And it would not let you sleep
Even though you should sleep
Rising from the ether of dreams
You check the time
And realize you can make it
This is the first victory of the day
You can finish what you started
Oh Liberty! If thy have been so free
Would have let my soul to thee.
Wish to fly away with thee
To the moments of inseparable sweets.
If there had been lil cares of the society
Your ‘Diva’ would have flown to the ‘Right Direction’.
Every moment of bliss is lying with the ‘Elixir’
To make thy future shine like Pixar.
Plea of thy love to extend the warmth of thy arms
Let our souls ecstasize in realms.
Let there be no inhibitions, let thy magic flow
Wish to spend a life so pure.
Nothing can be more awe-aspiring and graceful
Thank the magic duo so immenseful.
From my windows
I saw a snake
It was slipping around unnoticed
in poetry marathon pages
it was looking for my neck
to constrict my free speech
but i outflew it
and landed right in middle
making more trouble
than a snake or even monkey
they want to give me a name
make memes out of it
and memorabilise
my entry and exit
This window seat
gives me the vantage
to enjoy the view
and laugh along
till
I shut it close
and storms in tea-cups
seem mild
compared to howling winds
in tunnels of ears
whoooo, whooooosh,
shhh, shhhhh, shhhhhhh
is it the sea receding
or the sea-shells on benaulim beach singing
Through my window I spy
you under umbrellas yellow and blue
competing
using what i wrote
to gain green cards
but forgetting
it is an artificial sea bowl
the man in the ship on the other side
is the time-keeper
He is useless
when it comes to gaurding the coast
he’s let in
the dark crows who see it all
with red raven eyes
Though the shades are closed, vertical blinds obscuring the view,
I well know what lies behind them.
Out there, in my yard, lives
A grand Valencia orange tree 35 years old or more
That branches from the house to wall in a triangular
Patch of dirt amidst the concrete.
And kitty corner is the tangerine tree, frailer than her
Companion citrus tree but her fruit is sweeter.
She’s younger than her cousin.
In the southwestern corner of the yard are the rose bushes
One tall white rosed tree and one red sickly
She may suffer disease or rot, maybe bugs
And in the corner in the deep recess of abutting walls
Reigns the queen ficus, wild, unruly, with bursting roots
Uprooting everything in her way, concrete, cinder, and earth.
She buries bird nests and Edison wires within her bushy hair
Along the wall between the tangerine and lemon tree
Live a tangle of tomato plants, beefsteaks, cherries, and romas
Overrun nearly, by champagne grape vines grown over
And under my window, sentries to the morning, two small trees
That bloom pink peonies, peppering green leaves.
Beneath them, in the cool dirt, lies the Husky pup, Goosey Loose.
Who’ll soon lift herself on sleepy legs to crawl through
The doggie door, pause at the entryway before hopping into bed with me.
Like a roaring tide caught up in my blood
Like a raging river overflowing from a storm
Like a volcano erupting from the earth
Spuing forth boiling lava, with every cough and jerk
Holding on my life, as I struggle to give birth
What a big event!
Moon in my yard,
Until the next Marathon
(Hour Twenty four-Maritza M. Mejia)
This well-traveled road,
I’ve traversed many a day.
It leads me to the nuns
to whom I bare my soul.
Highway nine-forty-five,
is a simple, country road.
Who knows the power,
of this precious path?
I do. God does.
And now you know.
