24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Horse and Hattock! are their cries
And though by day we beg and barter with our lives
On moonless nights the fair folk come
To tempt the fitful lusts of falsesworn wives.
We pray the church bells banish all their lies
Before they’ve left a killcrop growing deep inside.
Music like poetry writing similar to singing uplifting or heart wrenching one simple verse one single line executed properly transcends time fill your mind with phenomenal visualizations touch your soul deep within even engulf you in elation
Jaded a bit, I know.
Certainly there are benefits to human dates
No dog can fulfill.
Certainly, no human date should ever feel
Expected to be my dog.
Yet I sleep better with
Comfort and company,
Warmth and breath, heartbeat and
Dream dances.
I sleep best when there is no room for
Doubt of waking with me
Glad to start our day with a few
Sloppy kisses.
Let’s face it, I’m a bitch:
Mother and pack leader,
Warrior, provider, teacher and always
Gentle if, if, if
If you build no pressure against my
Sovereignty or pups.
This is frictionless to my dogs, and I am
Safe as myself among them.
You might not understand I’m
Happy to share power and instead think my
Royalty must be your
Diminishment, which wouldn’t
Work out well, even if the
Lust distracts us awhile.
So dogs are better than dates, though that’s
Jaded a bit, I know.
So glad you are here
– The hideout of my life,
still waiting on the day
Not sure what you did
– The hideout of my world,
a little sad
The night we would have
– The hideout, the dawn light,
the night is the only way
And in that world there would be two suns, setting in two-step.
NB: Written ad lib using predictive text on my iPhone and then edited for a semblance of sense.
I sit here a hypocrite,
always.
Big ideals, strong moral fiber,
but mostly words,
not much action.
Words can be action.
I’m trying to activate them.
But so far…
nothing moves.
Sunsets and rainy days
Sunsets beg reflection
Reflection upon the water
Reflection invites collecting
Collecting copper coins
Collecting the day’s joy
Joy abounds
Joy found in moments
Moments like these
Moments lead to the unexpected
Unexpected treasures
Unexpected yet more
More than laughter
More of what I need
Need is so fleeting
Need to mark time
Time for dreaming
Time takes up space
Space ships to the moon
Space between here and there
There upon murky water
There is less and less
Less is more
Less to regret
Regret what happened
Regret only mistakes
Mistakes or missteps
Mistakes are made
Made of glass
Made to be broken
Broken down car
Broken dreams
Dreams get forgotten
Dreams of a shadow
Shadow or mine
Shadow of what’s to be
Be your own boss
Be appreciated
Appreciated like magic
Appreciated the step
Step right on up
Step over the losses
Losses of vision
Losses offer learning
Learning to read
Learning about poetry
Poetry in motion
Poetry forms
Forms
Motion
metaphor and eloquence evade
as they have all damn day
eventide prepares to arrive and between a door to the street and my daughter in the driver’s seat, though we roll forward,
– – – all i feel is the belt, tight across me
Ineptitude
I can only brood
at my ineptitude
words just shy of crude.
I know I am viewed a
buck short of shrewd.
As the words that I’ve spewed
put us all in bad moods.
I have somehow accrued
the right to deluge you
with verbal dog food.
Please don’t let me intrude.
I promise not to be lewd,
to save being booed
or even worse skewed.
Since this city’s subdued
I might be wooed as unscrewed,
given some latitude.
Before being barbecued,
I have certitude
the multitudes
wish me my solitude,
so I bid you adieu.
I am the Salesman, great as can be!
If you want to sell something, sell it through me!
If you want to buy anything, I’ve got ’em all!
The blue ones, the red ones, from short to tall!
The best ones, of course, cost a lot more.
What a wonderful way to prove you’re not poor!
What’s that, sir, yes, you, in the back?
You sell worthless junk? Well, I’ll take a crack!
“Sir Wallace, sit down, let me tell you a tale.
This fanciful thing once held Merlin’s ale!
Two hundred, you say, would be fair enough?
Go home, you poor man, that’s nothing but snuff!”
“Miss Eckard, fine lady, I’m sure that you know
King Arthur himself would keep this in tow!
Two thousand’s your deal, you claim it is fine?
Then you don’t deserve this object of mine!”
“Dear John Edward Kuffnick the Third, my friend,
This thing was with Washington when he met his end.
You offer a million? Truly? For real?
A measly old million’s a horrible deal!”
“Madam Clessy, take heart, I know what you want!
You want this rare item, so rough and so blunt!
I’ve had offers of millions, just so you know…
Only a billion… Well, alright, it’ll go!”
That is my line (salespeople, jot down),
Everyone will prove they could buy a gown
Worth millions, or billions, they couldn’t care,
If others will pay, the rich want a share.
The thing could be termites, or inchworms, or fleas,
If it costs money, it’s the bees’ knees!
Money’s worth money, and that’s all that it’s worth.
That is the trick of the best Salesman on Earth!
Immigrate is usual
Travel a desire
Succeed an illusion
Long for roots
Let go the past
Start all over
Wherever they go
Traditions alive
Missing the past
Judge, unnecessary
Condemn, not a solution
Compassion, might help
On their shoes
We understand
The suffering
Let’s help the immigrant!
(Hour Twelve – Maritza M. Mejia)