Hour 8–Risa
Into the light smiling
limelight her destiny
a last bow and gone
Prompt 2 (Yearning)
I assume we all yearn for something different
at different times in our lives
the same lessons displayed differently
different lessons displaying similarly
with the same goal in mind
to get through this stage of humanness
in life, we are born to die and we try
hard to live in the moment
find peace before, during and after the storm
A storm that is often caused by the fear and conflict
within our own selves
the struggle with yearning is that
our souls need different things
at different moments
and the fleshiness of us being ourselves
gets in the way
Hour Two: Meet Again
Author’s Note: This poem is dedicated to my Darryl & Diana series. In the origin story, Darryl is dead, and Diana is not. This is a poem describing Diana’s longing for Darryl. Her longing is strikingly similar to the longing I have for someone who I lost in real life, but since it’s hard to directly talk about, I’m using Diana’s point of view to indirectly talk about it. Her story has more hope than mine does. Enjoy.
For every moment I breathe,
I remember that you no longer do that.
I remember that you are gone,
out of my life forever it seems.
So forever ago that meeting you feels like some distant fantasy,
like some dream that I woke up from, never to experience again.
And that makes it so hard so breathe every day.
The only thing that helps me to know that you were more than a distant fantasy
is all the signs that your soul is still alive, still here somehow.
They are small but still there,
somehow, some way.
I’ll never know how it’s possible,
but at least I’ll know that we shall meet again,
long lost friend…
Eternity’s Eye
Sitting upon this knoll, I am awe-struck;
How fleeting our days float by.
To eternity’s eye, a lifetime is merely a
lonely breath, a single raindrop
meandering through the clouds, a snail
pacing its time until darkness closes; miraculous, life finds its time up.
Yosa Busin haiku
Rise
You always joked at your own expense: fat, ugly, high school dropout. We
Never questioned your self-debasement, your children, who would Never
Believe you’d lie, leading us astray, you, who we trusted just had to Know
Everything—you taught us the world, what it looked like and meant. How
Were we, your daughters and son, to foresee despite your chains, how High
You’d soar with crippled vision and mountainous, inherited neglect. We
witnessed the endless dig and grind, dig and grind, as you broke ground. Are
You as proud still, your skin-prick wit gone dry as your withered brain? Till
I stare death down, I’ll imagine the grin, your grip, the rolled diploma, as We,
your fans, stood on folding chairs, hands clapping above our heads. Are
You awake, Mom? A random sound among the quivers and quakes. I Asked
Your skeletal frame this morning, hoping to hear the familiar sharp reply To
An ever-child, “Do I look awake?” Follow your heavenward stares, Mom. Rise.
We Never Know How High We Are
Emily Dickinson
The Kirin
With angel’s touch horse grew giant horn
Its body changed into heavenly unicorn
Scaled covered its sleek body white
Its tail and body sprouting fire holy bright
Its blue eyes spoke keen intellect
With booming voice it sang thankful respect
‘O mortals our tormented curse you’ve broken
Your praise on mountains shall be spoken
To your good deed we are beholden
Beware the dark prince on throne golden
For his ignorant armies mass in the night
To threaten Crane Castle with terrible might
Help you we cannot but take a lock of my hair
Let its flame guide you west like a holy flare
With it the Stone of Oberoth you shall find
Its protection around the Castle shall wind.’
Then angel mounted beast and flew away
In heaven they would wait ’til fateful day
Poem 9 – Daft
Consider the animals
The orangutan
Languid and endangered
Consider the cat
Fiend, esoteric
Bougeouise
Consider the eel,
And the ones who study the eel
And if they get along
Most importantly
Consider the owl
HOOT HOOT
And there you are
The Way of Intimacy
Lost in the heart of one-too-few
Or one-too-many, who never knew
The rhythms of a soulful heart,
The need of love that could barely start
Lost in the minds of more-than-one
Who called to mind when love was done,
Who feared love’s loss more than its life
I need love more than to be a wife
Why do I hide when this is not my fear?
Why slink away for another year?
Why withdraw my love because you do?
I am not one to love so few
Fear openness, fear honesty?
How can you consider this to be
The way to true intimacy?
The way to love’s simplicity?
Heat lightning
the lights in the classroom go low. I am sure
the sound is on, but my thoughts
are warm and heavy like humid summer
evenings and he is sitting
next to me, tiny bursts of heat
lightning flickering across
the projector screen in front
of us. his hand edges toward
mine, breathe in breathe out
people say that what we call
heat lightning isn’t real. it’s just
a far-off storm but he turns and
asks me did you see that? did
the lights just flicker? and my heart
booms like a thunderclap I so
desperately wish we could hear
he leans toward me as if
he is going to say something but
doesn’t, just lingers there like
a stormcloud on a sunny day, like
lightning that keeps you waiting
because there is an uncrossable
distance between us. he is twenty-five
and I am sixteen so we just sit there, watching
the lightning leap from cloud to cloud, wondering
if there is a place for us somewhere
in the distance.
Hour Eight
No Offense, But…
It’s not that I don’t value
your opinion, even as it assaults
me when I am defenseless.
I just wish you would dull
the sharpness of your tongue
and listen when I speak.