24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
This tenuous hold I have,
ephemeral at best,
that keeps me rhyming,
timing,
scratching words with all the rest.
Too soon the sun will arch,
in Apolloโs wake, fall dark;
Yet half the race yet to run
before my pen and ink are done,
And wear the victorโs crest.
Spices blossom about my tongue Crimson falls and lights her hair Moonlight dance and distant trolley My muse and I exchange a glance, a secret or two I swallow her words, to marinade and digest And pray that under the stars, when she has gone, They will return and new works spawn
Your love died
and I am quiet, peaceful
my breath a silent pool
you, a passing jewel
My heart, determined
not to be broken
but my waters are still
withering from the unspoken
My funfilled valley
no longer a happy clatter
and my tide is unmoving
it no longer matters
I feel the breezes
kissing my mirror like doldrums
I feel no more joyous trance
as the water skeeters dance
Where this slow death goes
is not within my evaporated mind
and my fading dreams
once embraced your kind
If I believed in miracles
which sadly, I do not
I could pray for your return
and feel my heart’s ecstatic burn
Brandon’s manic phases are the best
sometimes he goes out in the middle of the night
and busts out car windshields with bricks
kicks mailboxes down to the street
eats food out of the package in the store
takes anything he can get his hands on
and veers into the opposite lane for a few seconds
shooting fingers at the other drivers
before jerking the wheel.
His girlfriend said he was out of control
so he emptied a whole gas can in her car
and showed me the video of it burning
at the apartment Christmas party
‘I was a good boy this year dude. The best.’
the cops got a statement off of someone else
I wouldn’t give it up.
๐๐ฃ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐๐ฎ๐๐จ
๐ ๐จ๐๐ ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ง๐จ;
๐๐ฃ๐๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ, ๐๐ง๐๐๐๐ฉ.
๐ผ๐ฃ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ข๐ค๐ง๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ ๐๐ก๐๐ข๐ฅ๐จ๐,
๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ง ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ก๐ค๐ค๐
๐๐ค๐ง ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ก๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฅ๐จ.
๐ผ๐ฃ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐๐ฃ ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐ค๐ก๐ ๐ก๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ฏ๐๐จ
๐’๐ ๐ก๐ค๐ค๐ ๐ค๐ช๐ฉ ๐๐ค๐ง ๐จ๐๐ค๐ค๐ฉ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ง๐จ;
๐๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐ ๐ข๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐จ๐
๐๐ค๐ง ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฉ ๐๐ ๐จ๐ค ๐๐๐ง.
Lighthouse glow echoes,
Trembling at the creature,
Unleashed and vanished.
the toothpick
laid into the jar
ant rescued
[Prompt Eleven: pick an ordinary object and make it extraordinary. You can do it by giving it some special attributes or a different background and story.]
They have chewed the doors and more
Chewed the window sills and steps
They come at night when you’re asleep
Looking for salty treats to gnaw
Paint and stain are gone
The wood is ruined and revealed
Repairs are sad and difficult
Perps have waddled into the night
Find old socks with no toe holes
Gather round smelly mothball orbs
Bury five or eight pieces down deep
Rubber band the ankles tight
Place loaded socks near destruction
An honest warning to all who enter
Each year will need repeating for
Ghostly creatures remain vigilant
What is Love
A softening
of every hard thing
An open hand.
A listening ear.
A lightening
and light-seeking.
A superpower.
A truth.
A talisman
A trump card.
A verb
not a noun.
A dream not seen.
A sensation unknown.
A belief on the wings of a whisper.
Unheard certainty of what was.
A love that will be.
A despair calling me.