24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Memories are nasty things
Kicking up dust
Settling into corners
Sometimes, yesterday
Weighs so heavy
I cannot get out of bed
My therapist says I live
In the past, forget today
He lacks credibility, though right
It’s his talk of religion
I mistrust, foul concept
But his services are free
It’s easy to remember
It will never be tomorrow
When I see yesterday so clearly
Music thumps through the air
Vibrating to our feet through the ground
Cheering screams echo after every song
Lights of every color blind people randomly
Lewd dance moves are performed by singers
Heads bobble like an unbalanced sea
Cheers grow louder, asking for an encore
Music thumps through the air
Welcome Back Home
‘Welcome Back Home’ exclaims the sign that hangs above the door.
The house sits darkly mocking me, as I stand in the street.
Twelve years at least since I was here; it feels like it’s been more;
I feel the old familiar rage begin to build, so sweet.
The house sits blindly brooding here, amid the cracked concrete.
“Of course, there can be no sign here,” I tell myself once more,
“There’s no one left here anyway, for this foul meet and greet.”
‘Welcome Back Home’ exclaims the sign that hangs above the door.
The doctors warned me not to come, I guess they knew the score.
I try to move, but just stand here – I’m frozen on my feet.
I hear incessant laughter now, and know I must explore;
The house sits darkly mocking me, as I stand in the street.
I tread the path most forcefully; there will be no retreat!
My fingers tremble shakily as I reach for the door.
It opens wide as if to say “Come get a bite to eat!”
Twelve years at least since I was here; it feels like it’s been more.
Stepping through the portal, I am rocked right to my core;
The door slams shut behind me and I feel desirous heat.
Now from the walls the voices start, and hate begins to pour.
I feel the old familiar rage begin to build, so sweet.
As memories of death return, I start to feel complete.
I’ve spent twelve years forgetting, now it’s time to recall more.
The memories of blood and pain bring a smile of conceit
I know now why it waited, and it need wait no more.
‘Welcome Back Home’
No words can ever convey
how exquisitely happy I am.
No words can ever convey
the gratitude that bursts from my heart
trying to crawl its way back to you.
Nervousness and anxiety
perpetually wedged within me
was only repressed by you.
Like a surgeon operating on a patient
It was you who soothed the rhythmic pounding in my head.
You trained my eyes to watch out for the smallest details
details that would always bring joy.
Liking taking a blindfold of
I could finally see.
Finally breathe.
Heat prickled my toes,
wind ruffled my hair,
I was no longer isolated.
Alone and afraid.
Rather your lullabies (that were almost soporific) cradled me like a child.
If only I could tell you this
but
because in lending me your eyes,
you went blind.
In lending me your ears,
you went deaf
and now all that left, is a shell of who, I used to once know.
Only a shell.
I don’t ask you to excuse me from the claims of proper behavior,
Just pardon me and sign the papers that will release me from prison
And help me find a more welcome home
More alluring than the these four cinder block walls.
I have nobody but my self to thank, you miht say,
On the principle that if you lie down with dogs,
you are bound to get fleas,
Yes, I could have hung out with different people,
and certainly been suspicious when they asked to hang out
their money to dry in my place.
I have been travelling, in my own way,however.
“How do you do that” you may ask.
I simply check out library books on travel –
The desire to be elsewhere a common sense among prisoners,
I find a vividly compelling illustration to check out,
and go there in my mind for a time.
I had a summer in Spain,
an. afternoon on skis in the Alps,
or have a NIce day or
a festival in Cannes.
It reassures me to know you wear my picture
in a locket around your neck.
I am depending on you,
and remind you can thank you for getting me discovered,
I’ve gotta run.
They don’t let me jog here
and my posture is poor from the short beds
so I am bent out of shape…..
this prompt helped me create a totally silly non poem
of which I am ashamed
C
.,
When you have secrets to share, that no soul must know
You must have secret friends, whom no one can guess
The moon whispers at night, “Welcome home”
She is the closest messenger to where my parent stays
She never asks me, “How are you?”
As my angel lets her know how was my day
On the fifteen days, when she is off to take her rest
She sends her friend, the clouds, to help me find my way
They silence me with a smile, when my eyes say “Thank you”
They poke each other to clear my path, before I say “Excuse me”
When my worrying mind is at its nagging best
The stars bump into me, shine their light and say “Pardon me”
When my heart aches with tears unshed, at the new dawn
They hug me tight, kiss me to say “Have a nice day”
When you have secrets to share, that no soul must know
You must have secret friends, whom you can completely trust
Two things we humans require
A brain and a beating red heart
Pacemakers assist the heart that can’t
Just as pills assist in other ways
The flow from the heart helps us live
But is often treated with disregard
After being neglected, the heart attacks
To be taken care of or buried below
There once was a lady that sewed.
Whose clothes were quite a la mode.
Although quite hip
she never mastered a zip.
And all her buttons and fastenings showed.
Before Darkness?
Darker still.
No light in sight.
Purring plops of precious pretty pussy cats
eyes closed so tiny!
So loved.
Harsh licks
of Mother’s tongue
so sooooothing…
Rumbling tummies wake me up.
My new Family in my lap.
And all before Dawn.