24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
This melody never staggers, grows old,
this song from an Elvis-bearded age.
It blooms and blushes me more than it should!
Dreams blister like bread, memories burn,
pungent under starblossoms and
moonfruit. My struck tongues rave:
no lie, Horatio, this is where it’s at.
All you fractious muses, bustle me close,
fiddle me measures to boast of.
Shove me suavely into another day.
A long day
Traffic jams and writers block
The ponytail ripping the hair off her head
And a throbbing, sleepless body
A long day
Adding miles and losing clients
Exhaustion trips and kicks him to death
Caffeine eyes hold open
Together now
Home at last with a sigh
Craving their bed while sleep walking
They’ve missed the other
Together now
Savor a moment sweet
With giggles, kisses and pancakes
Bonding as the world sleeps
At the darkest hour, when light seemed far away
I sat alone, unable to understand the next step
Listening to some soulful song, that matched my mood
Till there was change to the next piece of music
Yes, music and notes created on violin alone
The tone was upbeat with the highs and lows
There were so many transitions in just eighty seconds
The notes smoothly flowed from high to low and reverse
The overall effect was stunning and positive
It lifted my mood with its upbeat flow
It was so fast-paced, it allowed for no breath
Life was fast, and music could keep pace
The music infused energy into my veins
Darkness no longer seemed so daunting
I felt lighter as I walked towards the dawn
(c) Vijaya Gowrisankar
As I grew up I learned
that dancing is a sin,
flaunting the body like that.
I’m not sure what the crazy play
we did was called when the rhythm
of music was involved.
When we played records of the waltzes
of Stauss, for example, we’d end up out of breath
and dizzy, practically dying, with all those whirling
twirls in the living room. Baby dervishes,
graceless, but not disgraceful. Once,
there was no stopping us.
A Perfect Moment
Adventurer don’t wallow, break through the glorious morn.
Dance, twirl, about with joy, don’t stop the breath from breathing.
The heart breaks no longer, the time has come for boundaries safe.
All around is heavenly laughter, bubbling over brooks of glee.
Time stands still upon this mountain, with flower filled fields of contentment.
Life is, momentarily, complete.
There will be more.
– Mary-Jeanne Smith
In the streams of stars
I expect your hand
Where we walk and dance
On the imaginary island
The beeps of birds
The silence of love
And the whispering of water
All are fading from my world
The childish laughter rolled with the green hills
Up and down and they enjoyed the play and thrills
Sisters loving the sunshine in the pool of daffodils
Running happily through the afternoon as a breeze brought on a chill
Bows and laces, smiling faces, showing off their cartwheel skills
Holding hands and skipping in the lively green foothills
jj2017
There’s fire ablaze on top of her head
Her curls lay dormant around her cheeks
Intertwine, deep…rooted las the willow tree
The harsh cold winds blow through her flames
Revealing her soft spotted face
The emeralds in her eyes
Shine a light through the mist and fog
Leading ships upon the safety of her shores…back home
Her soft ballads and lilting calls for still waters
Back home…in the arms of those we love dearly
In the crooks of her bracing seas
Back home is where we all long to be
reeling
He would play like that, too –
my mother’s father’s fingers flying over strings –
foot stomping as to make whiskey glasses jump off the table.
Mom would dance, she said,
dance to the flying fingers, fleeing days
of whatever the Salvation Army shared with them.
Don Messer, too, set me reeling –
dancing feet to flying fingers freeing me
to twists and twirls
when the floor met me in my dizzy dance.
It’s the sound of the Metis –
the forgotten people;
so forgotten even mom doesn’t remember the jig in her blood
and the flying fingers fraying bows
on necks too strong to snap.
The jig in my heart jumps lightly now
finding flying feet
out of ash and concrete
so my soul can be free to reel
and meet the floor with my dizzy dance
R. L. Elke
(C)Aug 5/17 prompt 11
look lead to talking
more chatting to cheating
bam! lost everything