24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I almost forgot
But when I think about you
I always remember
You’re on the tip of my tongue
Then the light goes on
And you’re there
With laughter and sincerity
Life is a commodity
But this life is a rarity
The ever after is the spectacularity
That life begot
Soft touch of sunshine
Rains on my face,
glow of gentle red behind closed eyes,
drowsing against glass.
Prompt 7 – Viator Poem
Why do I write
Why do I write,
to tell our words
stories , memories,
our keepsakes.
Sometimes I get asked
Why do I write,
because I like to
is the simplest answer.
Words are important
we all carry stories,
why do I write,
so future can know of the past.
I’ve lost many stories
gone, I didn’t record them,
now I remind myself
why do I write.
I think of you often
Too often, when the last words we spoke were so long ago
I can no longer remember what they were
Do you think of me?
There was a time
Where nothing was more important
Than the hours we spent
Inseparable
I didn’t even want to sleep
For fear I would waste a second
You saw me as I was
Imaginative and free
Strange and wild
And loved me without a second thought
Because you were the same
I stood by you
Loyal as any shadow
Basking in your glow
Remember when we would fall into the waves, joyful in our abandon?
Remember when we would run through the trees, every second an adventure?
Remember when we would crouch in hidden corners, scaring each other breathless?
I used to think that would be forever
Maybe in another universe, it is
You’re getting married soon
Will you look out into the crowd and see an empty place
Shaped like me?
Our lives have parted from each other so long ago
I’m not sure we’d recognize each other
I want you to know
That I don’t believe that love fades
So if you ever decide
To invite me back
I will never decline
When I knew I had lost you,
I stood at the bottom of your stairs
Staring up at something unreachable
A family friend noticed and said,
“Maybe someday you’ll meet at a bar,
And it will be like nothing changed.”
So here I am
Waiting
With a seat saved for you
Music
Music is such a personal thing
Shared by the world
With each hearing it uniquely.
The dreams are nightmares collectively,
For the lyrics are interpreted
Quite different depending on
The soul.
Some just hear only the beat,
Others need the lyrics
To connect
Soulfully.
Open the window to a world dressed up. I'll wear my skirt and my hair up high You'll wear cologne and a red bow tie. We friends gather in the streets tonight, just we were last night, just as we'll be tomorrow. Kisses to our house-mothers sitting on apartment stoops while scheming, calling out, and whistling while sipping sangria. We end up in canoes at Parque Retiro with stars above reflected all around us as waves make them dance. Where does the night sky end and water begin? Too fast to find out, we meet up with Anne and Jorge, who else came with Nan that evening? Names fade, yet magic stays from nights of steady beats on Madrid's streets. A sip of wine, a flamenco dance on stage, conversations on that bench just outside of the church where many will pray rosaries tomorrow but will lean out windows and sing tonight. All the world is out tonight as you walk me home. My house-father has dozed off, so we sip cocoa with the others. Stories of simple pleasures do not excite but rather delight us. My world was somehow slower, even in the crowded city. Dare I return now, will life be as sweet forty years after the neon, moonlit, musical streets? Open the window to a world dressed up. I'll wear my skirt and my hair up high You'll wear cologne and a red bow tie.
The road clicks a sticatto beat
the tires hum along with the flow
I hear you speak now
words measured and succinct
But no one can hear you
No one understands you
Your voice carries a melody
that lifts and carries in the breeze.
You seem adamant
almost intense
as the warm sun
paints tree lined shadows
crossing your worried brows
as your voice carries a melody
that lifts and carries in the breexe.
The warmth of the fire,
The glow of the flames.
The crackle of the sticks,
Like they’re calling my name.
The stary night sky,
So far above.
Sets a nice mood,
For an evening of love.
I grab my favorite blanket,
Lay it out on the sand.
Invite him to sit,
Then reach for his hand.
Expecting a spark,
I feel a bit foolish.
For nothing was there,
Leaving me to rethink my wish.
I let go of his hand,
Look him in the eye.
No words are needed,
I softly begin to cry.
He stands to leave,
No apology offered.
I bury my head in my hands,
The night’s tone now altered.
Milky ways of diamond dust
Across a desert sky
Flames that dance within the night
And carry wishes high
Upon the winds, up to the stars
Where the gods can hear
Smoke rings dancing in the dark
Before they disappear
Some say magick isn’t real
But some will never know
That magick’s only science
With different words aglow
Physics and astronomy
The wheel of time doth spin
And trust the gods are listening
To the chaos and the sin
We give them each and every day
In actions and in words
In wishes we send on the wind
In poetry and verse
It’s all one; it’s all the same
It’s energy; it’s love
And when you give hate to the stars
Trust They’re listening above
Three times three it all comes back
What you give to the sky
In smoky flames of diamond dust
Where fallen angels fly.
~Mandy Kocsis©2023~
The world is a noisy place
But not just with sound
Light too is noisy
flashing, flickering, neon and bright
beeps, buzzing, chitter and chatter
blah, blah, blah
Phone screens are noise
Social media is noise
TV screens are noise
sound bars are noise
louder
louder
brighter
brighter
I crave for days of silence
days of stillness
days of allowing ourselves to be
the world is a noisy place
it’s time to travel inwards
it’s time to listen to the self