24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I am hungry, cold, weak, I seek shelter from the heat of the day, a small stream
refreshes my senses, quenches my thirst gives me a chance at one more day
my swollen belly contains the future, my line, my hope, I choose this place it is
peaceful no large predators hunting me, fresh berries and small prey, I thrive.
in the distance smoke and fire wind there way down the mountain, ash falls
l choke, I rest, my genetic code lost, entombed by chance,
-s.j.duncan-
To the Muse of Forever Love
Carrying a torch,
they call it,
but I have ignited
both ends
and swallowed flames,
impelling spears of consecrated
Light
deep into the heartland
of my soul.
J. Pratt-Walter, (c) 8/2017
Seven years ago
I mentioned
your name freely-
nothing to hide
or be ashamed of,
no remorse or weariness.
It’s been a long time,
but I still hold steadfast
to the ideal of what
we could have been.
Gather ‘round the fire and we’ll share an experience.
Two flames:
One at your mouth,
The other at your feet.
Dense smoke,
Super silver haze,
Holds, carries our laughter into space.
Drift with me;
Dance in the light of the stars.
Close your eyes and let your consciousness explore
Alternate states of being.
Puff, puff, pass,
And now we’re dancing in the light of the stars,
And now the moon is a spotlight,
Illuminating your smile,
And the space between your fingers and the filter.
We’re out for a rip,
We’re out for a trip,
And we are no longer afraid of the night.
I want to taste it
Just one time
How does it feel like
to be loved?
How does it feel like
To be loved by someone
for whom you are flawless?
After the long haul
After the “personal” hurricane,
The mind-boggling scenario
And after, reluctantly, the change of heart
You can honestly say, “it’s too late”.
With so much procrastinating
With so much ‘later-ons’
With multitude of excuses for tomorrow
Yes, it’s too late.
Making it after the nick of time
Ignoring a diamond on hand
Dismissing the pitiful silence,
the non-verbal answers and gestures
Ignoring the importance of the presence
of the magnificent one
Realization came…
Decrying, howling, it’s too late
It’s really too late
Nothing was born again today.
And, again, nothing died.
Is this heaven?
I’m not so sure.
Flowers clipped just re-appear.
Nothing ever moves,
But me
On free energy.
How long have I been?
And, how long will I go?
I forgot the day I last used those.
What were they?
Objects.
Not sand nor dust
Can cover up my wonder
Here, on this eternal day
Of no decay.
I sat with the moon by my side
Hanging words on stars
We sang songs to the sun
In laughter unbound
Although the sun hid his swoon
He lets us feel his warm glow
The moon stayed close enough to touch
Close enough to whisper all my secrets
And she whispered back
When night loved day
And day loved night
The moon sang a special tune
The sun he grew bright
But it was in the eclipse
They found the perfect light
Color Code
It is coded by the invisible
Not yellow or brown
But in the blue canvass of the sky
To spray paint in rainbow
It has a green – the earth covered tapestry
It has a purpose
The virgin forest, the lush foliage
The ocean green…
Not in black or white
Why then do we fight,
In the name of color?
Hour 10
@varenyas
On my third cup
of tea, I learned
your hair is red
like mine in sunlight,
that your nose turns
upward. Slightly.
That your mouth
curls like ribbon
when I smile.
Brown was always
just brown until
I loved your brown
eyes and the way they
squint at my puns.
Please stop picking at your nails.
On my third cup
of tea, you sang
to me, pressing
fear from my shoulders
with snowman fingers,
letting it drip
down my arms into
my tingling fingertips.
Hands were just hands
until yours held
my waist, held me
close, tried to
clutch my heart.