24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
All children are born pagans:
cathedrals concealed within
rhododendron, whispered rites,
copper wine from bare faucets
fresh-cut lawns like lost gardens
drawing water from wells drilled
deep into ancient hills,
filtered through sieves of rock
deep as memory, roadside where
the family dog was raptured,
ponds flush with bullfrogs growling
heathen prayers beyond all thoughts
or cares for their salvation.
What should the world, do on a day like this?
On a day full of sunshine, laughter and,..
joy for all of us to celebrate today
we relax and forget about tomorrow
What should the world, do on a day like this?
When the past is still trying to smother us
when we are too afraid to face ourselves
and see a people ready for a walk
What should the world, do on a day like this?
Accept tomorrow will come and look
forward to it, embrace it and make it ours
Let the past go, go with us into morrow
I am going to rub a magic potion into my skin
&
I am going to gyrate with a magic lamp
&
I am going to take it all back to the deserts Jesus wandered prophesying on the lost people who birth lost generations who are found in dusty warehouses in major cities where revolution is bred from dust particles…
As if I have fallen, flew, waken, clawed up a cliff before the dream shuts my heavy lids.
As if you can shrink down, glowing worm like, crying love versions as I slide myself down your throat.
I am going to blow you
&
I am going to shock your mind
&
I am going to move us with fantastical love…
As if the audience tells you it is impossible.
As if everyone tonight is happy making someone smile as they light their smoke.
Looked in the mirror this morning,
studying the face who starred back.
Old, wrinkled, and a smile – no,
More a smirk,
Wondering what I was doing.
Then I looked directly into the eyes,
Falling, falling, deeper, Until
I began to see
ALL the things these eyes had witnessed.
Good, indifferent, bad,
It was all there, looking at me,
Looking back at me.
We don’t fight anymore
but we should. I miss the
passionate heavy breathing,
fire in our bellies, struggle to keep
ourselves, our love alive. Why did we
stop fighting? Just quit. Gave up. Let go.
Please fight with me again.
Push my buttons, say cruel things,
trying to rouse a response. I need you
to fight with me, be with me, engage me.
i know we’re old and tired, been married way
too long. But without love’s fight, I fear we might
divorce, or worse, disappear.
Waiting for the moment of adulthood
for that time when I will feel certain.
When the doubt and fear will be
replaced by confidence and calm.
When decisions come swiftly
and are accepted without concern.
A place of righteous thought
and compassionate acts.
Where I can feel comfortable
min my own skin,
even though I’m near the end.
With skin so wrinkled and pallor so pale
I wait for the moment and exhale.
The cat curls into a ball
as does the dog. We pull our
knees to our chest—turning
inward, traveling in time back
to womb when everything
was copasetic—now we’re
blind with brilliance expanding
into the open –our next stage
of evolution? Light streams
from billions of cells like stars
in our galaxy.
four and one half minutes to write, two minute edit
Time is on my mind
When will it run out?
I hear the click of the timer
I watch the dial move back
When time is up it will ding
Will there be time for everything?
Playtime of all ages singing a song
Resonates each lines of it
Making things ringing a dong
Something doing to sit
Springtime of each counters
Reading the lines to a sharer
Marking in its encounter
Something to be an usherer
Pointing new direction
Seeing the driving point
A key hole to a section
A life in certain point
Looking beyond the contentment
Something derived from its sentiment
© Roy Mark Azanza Corrales 06082017 2:10 AM PST
I’ve lost him.
Today, I danced for him,
But there was another present.
His lips brushed hers,
Her hands touched him.
I’ve never seen him so happy.
They were together in ways I could never dream.
Their eyes sang beautiful songs together.
No matter the music though, I didn’t feel much like dancing.
Darkness came to my world, and like that I froze in place.
If he ever returns for me, I will be so very happy.
I will be waiting for him with bright eyes and a cheerful smile.
My heart runs for him and for him alone, and not even this stranger
Could ever, ever take that away from me. I would journey the earth for him.
But until he decides to wind me up again, my world will return to the cold darkness.
Such is the fate of a tiny dancer.