24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The putty pony has its special place
in the cleavage of the herdsman’s daughter
placed in conference for our riderless time
to protect her from all servitude
and the conspiracy of mange.
The inheritance of the surly night
unbearable as it was
kept the herdsman sane
but pushed his daughter through the keyhole
of an enchanted stable door.
Hour Four Prompt
It devours your soul,
then it spits you out.
It devours your soul,
and you can’t escape.
All that was hidden inside you
is unveiled
by music.
The three to five minutes it plays
feels like an eternity,
and just when you think it will never end,
it stops
just like that.
Then it spits you out,
leaving you to feel empty again,
and all of that was unveiled from inside of you
becomes hidden once again.
You long for that high.
You long for that inexplicable feeling
that you get when it plays.
Thus, your three to five minute moment paradise begins again,
and time seems rewind itself
as if you went into a time machine in order to turn back time.
Everything feels like it once did a moment ago,
and that process repeats
at any time you wish.
It devours your soul,
then it spits you out.
Music’s splendid ability.
Start,
pause,
play.
Rewind
and
replay.
No matter what you choose,
you can’t escape.
What I feel now
is a long-felt want.
Every night and day
like a ghost I haunt
to feel something
other than emptiness,
searching for the meaning of life,
the substance of me-ness.
Yellow auras are analytic
while reds are competitive and energetic
Romantics are cast in auras pink
and green-hued folks are more creative than they might think
Orange belongs to generous souls
Purple’s the psychic who mysteriously cajoles
Blue is the strong worker, organized
Those most attractive, golds, show off and get patronized
Gifted spirits of silver adapt
The color of your aura foretells purpose, unwrapped
A touch speaks volumes
more than words
but what if words
are all you have
for they can travel
the distant spaces
between the people
connected
A glance
a blink
a twinkle
in the eye
the soul –
in perfect nudity
Yet hiding
from the sight
of cameras
yet all you have
are frames
The breathing on the line
the mystery of voice
unheard
As letters on the screen
they do not vibrate
yet they can speak
volumes from the heart
in the shower, a daddy long leg
is sure to appear,
I wait till he has found his corner cover
before starting the water.
in late fall the garden is replete
with webs, they shimmer
with raindrops, fatten as their
prey diminishes.
it’s a little exasperating when their
webs cover every avenue around the house,
so you must train your spiders well.
my favorite is springtime when the
baby spiders amass on the deck or
some batch of wood, buzzing back and
forth with anticipation of busting out,
like Oklahoma homesteaders in the ‘30s.
Drifting on waves crushing inside, flowing outside, into a sea of flooded gushing waters. Echos of harmony into the wind swirls fresh sea air into the nostrils.Waves of high tides streaming strong currents forward, crashes into a stunning land already visited but, deeply loved.
Poem By:JGomez
Sun kissed brown perfectly hued I am in love with my blackness despite how it may some times be viewed
Raised proud surrounded by a deliciously speckled crowd
Beige Sandy browns mahagony, mochas even latte cream. But technically black is all that’s seen
Humbly great just like my shade. Ever heard the saying “black don’t crack’ guess what nor will it fade
The pink of her cheeks,
The softness of new baby skin,
Rosebud-colored lips framing her mouth,
Deep chocolate-black hair, smooth and fine,
Tiny fingers wrapped around mine,
Blue-black eyes open, not seeing,
Ears hear my voice, head turns my way,
She’s pulling my finger, her mouth to taste;
Void of the nectar her mom holds for her.
Room full of family waiting, their turn to hold,
This precious child is one of their fold
Only days old, her future is planned
Nursery at home waits for her presence with gifts
Crib filled with white teddy and blankets of pink ruffles
Bella, she is and Bella’s her name
This family’s world no longer the same.
© 2017 Kathleen J Kidder
8/5/2017 Hour Ten – Half Marathon
Deep Purple
With lavender swirls
topped with yellow squares
of turquoise flowers
Gray skies
with black thoughts
cascade over red roses
with green thorns…