24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Chasing
Running
Sprinting
Constantly on-the-go
What are we seeking?
Pausing
Relaxing
Reflecting
Taking a break
When do we do that?
The excuse, no time
The outcome, never satisfying
Who to blame?
The system, or
The follower?
Prompt 10 – What is love
What is Love
Well,
love hurts,
some people
can’t help falling in love,
they make it their
love story,
at the end of the day
all you need is love,
once I was
crazy in love,
after we split
I’ll never love again,
was it actually
true love?
I know others who a great
love song,
I do believe
when love takes over,
then I can say
I believe in a thing called love,
maybe then I’ll say
I just called to say I love you,
now I just need
someone to love,
so if you have
somebody to love,
then ask them
can you feel the love.
Of all the pills, candles, aphrodisiacs
That litter store shelves.
Healing crystals, special powders,
Gum, drinks, things found
In gas stations.
None have half the potency as
The one item that is both hard and soft,
Sweet yet salty, cool and warm
And a dazzling display of colors,
Loved by men and women
From all walks, easily enjoyed daily.
Humble taco, there for us
When our own natural feelings and
Functions fail us in our moment of need.
Prompt 9 – Five Words (Jacket, Bucket, tremor, elbow, Lightbulb)
True Story
Along he came with a high vis jacket on,
then came another and another
begging the question,
how many men does it take to change a lightbulb?
Arms on the hips, elbows out
they looked , then looked again
shaking their heads at the tremoring bulb,
after much deliberation, it takes one man,
just one man to change a lightbulb.
The path was just enough for a hiker to get through.
It’s not the kind of place a city girl would do.
The green is vibrant and the flowers scent fills the air.
Follow the path to the lake, and in the moonlight become bare.
Reclothed and ready to go back on the trail,
Skinny dippings fun. Now lets get some ale.
A story from old grandma as I reminisce,
A hidden path across the lake drawn my eye,
She said, beyond the bushes there you’ll see.
An old forgotten mystery.
A runaway princess was last seen.
Hidden behind a magic spell.
Never heard, after midnight,
A runaway of the world,
A mystery unresolved.
A broken heart that was lost,
I guess, that is the most.
Some things are out of cost,
Found and Lost.
#POETRYMARATHON2023 #HOUR11 #24HRSCATEGORY
1pm. Poem 11.
At the Clinic School
On any ordinary day
on an ordinary street
in our ordinary town
third floor of a very
ordinary, beige building…
a child with no speech
squeaks out, “Ooooo”
for the first time,
another chooses to pick up a book
instead of flinging himself
into a wall,
a little one
points to a photo of her mother,
and another of her dog.
Others try new foods,
share a game with a friend,
look into the eyes
of their parents,
choose to breathe
instead of scream,
wave goodbye
at the end of the day.
On any ordinary day
behind very ordinary doors
not so ordinary people
teach anything but ordinary children
extraordinary skills…
and miracles happen.
.
Just Eggs, Please
It’s sunlight
that catches me off guard
Two eggs on a counter
waiting to feed my morning belly
nothing extraordinary in this daily routine
then
sun peeks through the window
just a ray
just a touch
two eggs on the counter
rivaling Vermeer
just being
just communing with the sun
on a ordinary day
nothing extraordinary
A distance past the depth
The reflection is the admiration
The scent is the addiction
A distance past the depth
When the cotton drops
Fall down to grace the surface
The depth will be past the distance
Flipped
Capsized
Floating
Send out a line
Bring yourself back down
Out passed the depth
A well adjusted person would have give not a second thought about venturing down the magically lit path through the woods
I, on the other hand, have seen one too many true crime stories for that
Even in fairy tales we are warned about wandering into the woods alone
Although the wolves in those stories are much different than those on Dateline
I think the moral of both tales is simply-
Little girls who stay home in their PJs listening to stories fare much better than little girls who go skipping into the woods