24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
(working title)
As you walk beside the waters
Caution, daughters
Kelpies beckon
Men in horseskin
When sailing off to distant shores
Keep to your oars
You must stay strong
To siren song
If dipping toes into the lake
Mind you your wake
Undine pull down
To make you drown
Much like beauty all things are beholden to one’s eye
Words that are used to acquire the imagination of one’s wallet are usually lies
Deluxe Pedicure
This description rang out to me like visions of lotus flowers and foot massages of the ages
Alas the power of truth, my salt has been ingrained:
My wallet and my poor state of economy does away with such fancies
I looked into the eyes of Surt.
I saw his fury in the moment.
Elderstahl flashed in the night.
Fires raged and roared.
Surt screamed his defiance at the realms.
Who could save us?
Thor perished on Jormungandr’s fangs.
The All-Father, consumed by the beast Fnrir.
Even all seeing Heimdall fell to Loki’s blades.
None are left to stand in the final day.
Ragnarok has come to burn us all away.
As the fires rose, consuming each realm,
Sure surveyed his work.
The grief of worlds pierced his stone heart.
Only at the end could he see what his fury wrought.
Elderstahl claimed one more life on the final day,
sheathed in its master’s flesh.
In anguish he died,
calling back the flames of wrath,
like calling back the wind on the sea.
Twas the fury of Surt that washed the worlds clean.
This is both a golden shovel and a nonet
a mere brush of your hand and I
was gullible enough to think
we were a pair, you and I
the sweet remarks you made
hid the bitter you—
time to wake up
stop messin’
with my
head
The line I have used is from Sylvia Plath’s “mad girl’s love song”
Yes
I made this tie myself
out of a motel information card
No
I don’t want room service
or a wake-up call
‘A lesson to learn’, is what they tell me but what did I do to earn it
I remember myself as a child with high energy, I wanted to win at everything and never quit
A regrettable sense of faith let me to this story in my life
The teenage years were fun, far from the normal strife
What grew from that youth was a man with grit n spit
‘A lesson to learn’, will it make me wise.
Dragon fire from below;
A seed of youth is planted.
From whence he came I do not know,
Nor how I was enchanted.
From whence he came I do not know,
Nor why my strength should fail me.
Then, like a kitten I did flow
Around his ankle, wary.
Dragon fire from below
Used by a king in sapphire
To force his way onto the throne
And end my wailing satire.
From whence he came I do not know,
Nor why my judgement failed me.
He fell with angels from below
And seared betwixt lunati.
I Search
for you in the faces of crowds
in the corn fields
and among the grey clouds.
Are you hiding among the blinding lights
or chasing cars
on deserted roads
to fields of stars
Dressed in the night sky where
are you now?
You said
you’d sing out loud
Ever since
you’ve been gone, my thoughts are not mine
it has passed
through hands and I
I learnt
I am nothing without
my peace of mind
I have to restore it anyhow.
j.r.m©
There are many ways I could describe you.
Poison.
A rollercoaster.
A hurricane.
A reason to change my last name.
See, I’ve always had an affinity
For broken people and broken things
And you are just the type of guy
That makes my heart sing.
Secretly hope my posts are flooded by everyone else’s. I am participating but my head is just not in the game.
“I am a cowboy in the boat of Ra” ~
with apologies to Ishmael Reed[1]
My literary lovers aren’t like me. It is not my choice that I
Follow the tracks of black men, gay men, dead veterans. But who I am
Is all of these men I never was and never will be. Somehow, a
Bridge connects each of them to me, each of us to one another. Cowboys
To angry Indians, men betrayed by women to this woman, who in
Her journey out of darkness watches for the light thrown by the
Men who live there, on the margins, floating down the river in a boat
With words for a rudder. Made homeless by other men always white men of
My own kind, my father told me. But the ancient god speaks, and Ra
Who created everything & everyone, even the white sidewinders,
Reminds me: all pools reflect light. Looking at light is looking in
Into the darkness within us. Each of my lovers has mapped the
Alleys, hairpin curves, and switchbacks of roads like old saloons
Set up to carry us away from bridges, away from all of
Light’s illumination. Not to follow is to submit to fools.
Not to follow is to submit.