24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
You were red.
You could light up the room,
Everyone liked you,
You were a warm person.
I was blue.
I was the dark corner of the room,
Everyone avoided me,
I was a cold person.
We were purple.
I felt warmer in a room, but you felt restrained in the dark.
More people said hi to me than ever before, but more people started to feel indifferent about you.
You soon became red again.
And I became blue.
All the memories are still here. There’s my first time meeting my best friend.
You must be careful with that one. It’s extremely fragile.
Over by the wall is prom. You can throw that one at the wall. Senior, but not junior.
The rest you can do with as you wish but make sure they’re in good hands.
I’d like them to be like MLK: gone but never forgotten.
Inner city blues
Success has many clues
The answer solves what’s real
No matter how you feel
Sing a simple song of life
That ends the violence, starvation, and strife
That lets factual knowledge now be heard
Where wisdom isn’t a foreign word
Sing a song that heals a child
That gives us unity all the while
Allowing us to be our self
Instead of dictating someone else
What is the name of the city that you love
Where is the state honors rights of all
When the country holds dear the rights of each state
Does anyone live in this place
jj2017
As the first minute ticks by
Let those built up words fly
Just keep pace, don’t lose track
Music flowing through the air
Keep the second beats pumping
A little break- now take two
A party, traveling through
As a different artist peeks through
The tune, slows and grows
Never look back, carry on.
New bass, new lines start.
Third stanza on.
Not lost, but alone
Carried along through song
High notes, rising
Pushing through
Just keep going
No time to stop
you’re still on the clock.
Carry on.
8/5/17 11:21am
Bunny
Thursday afternoon hangs sticky in my head
sticky in the way that I’m stuck on something that you said.
In your way you asked me, why I over-edit, why I correct.
You asked me, “where’s the grit? Where’s the real shit?”
Where’s the words I used to peel off of my lips in strips,
shouting my truths at the top of my lungs?
Where’s the rawness and the vulgar?
Did it fade as I got older?
Walking on eggshells to assure I don’t push anyone away.
Please like me, god I need you to like me.
But it’s not honest,
it’s not the sonnets that are spinning in my throat.
I can’t coat the words in sugar, can’t recite a pretty quote.
Trying to crack open like flowers through the pavement,
and remember what it was that I had to say in the first place.
“You use too many words. Don’t overthink it so much.”
Let it spill out slip out drip out
of your bitten fingertips until you find yourself,
the one you’ve forgotten.
No need for repetitious beatings, not anymore
It’s not feasible to continue, not anymore
Not funny to cry your heart out, alone
not anymore
Enough to hope endlessly,
without clear cut promises, not anymore
It’s unbecoming to be branded as feeble-minded and dense
sometimes but not always
Stand up straight. Heads up.
One step backward but two or more steps forward
With conviction and much bravado,
not jelly-kneed, no qualms
So courageous and full of love of one’s self
Declaring to the world…not anymore
You are the wind that fills my sails, pushing me along.
When my soul can’t find the music, you sing me a new song.
When all my dreams are lost, you give me one of yours.
You help me find a window when there are no open doors.
You laugh with me when I’m happy, and cry with me when I’m blue.
You are the greatest person I know, and my heart belongs to you.
Where this is going
suspension of time
is to be expected
That’s what always happens to me
when I surrender
Under this sky
suspended in amber
an artefact from some undefined age
this moment knows no history
it belongs to you and me, today
Stretch out beside me
I’ll rub your back
slowly
with no other purpose
but to feel the soothing calm
of the touch of your skin
(5 August 2017)
I tell the cashier at the food co-op that this is the first time I’m using my new, post-hacking credit card. I tell him how unambitious this particular hacker was: all he bought was a few items via iTunes, totaling just over a hundred dollars. David, the cashier, says that one time his hacker stayed in a nice place on the Oregon coast, spent a lot of money at a fancy kite store, etc. I feel sorry for my hacker, who seems to share my tendency towards self-denial. I do like his pseudonym, however, which I learn from Michelle, the iTunes customer service rep: Algernon Jones.