24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Don’t you see i
cannot belong to me l am
freefalling a feather laced with love ,, not
attached to me like
limbs sitting pretty on an
opportunity that isn’t ordinary
this place is my world.
s.j.duncan
Thought it looked good, fresh clean, in a glass bottle, know what I mean.
Cold to the touch, hoped you’d like it so much
Cut a huge piece of cake chocolate of course
Poured into a glass, check date and the hour
Drank a big gulp, caught a lump in my throat
Gagging I screamed yuck this is sour!
08 2017
new glasses askew linked haiku (free form)
by Paul Robert Sanford
new glasses don’t fit
nothing looks familiar
there you are!
I don’t get headaches
new glasses aske
ouch!
seeing double
facebook photos of cats
online raging arguments
the warm sun delights
squinting, cataracts
sunburn, headaches
eclipse
don’t look at the sun
I miss everything
special eclipse lenses
glasses all askew
I close my eyes
listen to the news
the world is on fire
I close my ears
closed from sight or sound
a gentle loving touch
thank you, friend!
She never knew what I did and,
Kept arguing for the wrong ,at last felt sorry
For mistaking me for what I
Am and what I possibly could
Seeing her like this for the first time unattended;not
Caring for the ways we used to travel,
Together hand in hand holding happiness and sorrow both.
Credits:Robert Frost,one of my favorite poets.The line from his famous poem “The Road Not Taken” ,’And sorry I couldn’t travel both’.
inspired by “Three” by Anne Carson
It is something we never mentioned before. But it
is as if it grew on our skin since we were born. Is,
as you asked repeatedly, everything okay? It’s not as
if no one would ever know what happened. But even if
we broadcast everything over the media for all ears, we
have kept our word! There’ll be no revenge. We have
all done what was necessary. Right? We have all
been exonerated. Breathe easy now. Everyone else has been
lowered into the container. Only two of them have glowered
into space between us. Now they are unable to gain entry into
anyplace near here. We’ll soon be safely breathing deeply of an
atmosphere that is safe. The newly developed green atmosphere
of recycled materials — healthier than the original, made mainly of
glass. We’ll soon be okay again, perfectly encased in and under glass.
Soft, whimsical breeze on my face
Do not leave the time is not nigh
Feeling refreshed enjoying your comfort
Contemplating how peaceful it is
So free you are, roaming to and fro
Oh to be one with the vast sky
I could just get lost and be free
Nothing to hold me back, just to be
I love writing poems that use this sort of framework technique, requiring a particular word, or a word starting with a particular letter, in pre-determined positions. I've changed the end word of my last but one line to 'your way', because I couldn't get the last line to work if the penultimate line ended with 'the'. With more time I'll figure out a way to do this with the correct word.
Using the first two lines from ORIGINS AND HISTORY OF CONSCIOUSNESS (1972-74) by Adrienne Rich
Night-life. Letters, journals, bourbon
sloshed in the glass. Poems crucified on the wall
I fear the city cnight-life,
its neon letters
featuring in morning journals,
with tales of violence fuelled by bourbon.
You were too sloshed
to persuade me to let you in,
your mouth could not form the
words you wanted, and I left you staring at the glass.
I'll mention you in my poems
your arms wide, crucified
like you were holding on
to the belief you could scale your way
back over the prison wall.
So, play the water of the tranquil moon ~ Pablo Neruda (#8 the golden shovel)
I wasn’t sure what I had done so
trying to be more supportive, I attended your play
How I debated before taking action. The hardest part of the
Exercise was knowing I wanted your approval … like a human needs water
i remember our time together and think of
all the great (and not so great) memories and the
fact that I was so self-absorbed I didn’t appreciate it then. Tranquil
now I resolve to set aside my bad habits and howl at the Moon
I see you, trios of service industry stars, you’re just waking up now,
and your females hiding in their Jackie-O glasses, and your males, oh, you –
look at you in someone’s grandpa’s sweater. and bespectacled and lean
as Tom Joad…you remember buying Grapes of Wrath from the quarterly(ies)
sale at Urban Outfitters, and even though you found Joad and
the Dust Bowl compelling and relevant, you look at how swarthy
the bums at the City Market are, and want to swat them with the free periodicals.
The line, “Now you lean quarterlies, and swarthy periodicals,” is the first in Frank O’Hara’s To the Film Industry in Crisis.