24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
My Monkey
I once moped my way
through black-clad days,
trudging, head down,
hair in my face,
contemplating why I hated me
in flowery, overblown prose.
The angst monster rode my back,
teen version of a drug monkey.
Feeling downtrodden was my drug of choice.
This prompt is a little strange. The challenge is to write a poem about the angstrom that is not cliché. Now I don’t know why they’ve selected such an obscure word. I’ve got a bit of a bad feeling about this, but what can you do.
angstrom
the distance of the wave’s
length is infinitesimally
tiny ; one hundred-millionth
of a centimetre , to be
precise ;
it makes you wonder
where they get a ruler
that small — or at least
one where you can still
read the numbers/
whaddya mean i’m doing
it on the wrong word
a non-cliche poem
on the angstrom is what
the prompt said (hang on
i’ll just go quickly check)
ohhhh i knew this would
happen — i was so worried
it would — & surprise
(no) surprise it did — but
why does dreadful stuff
always happen to me
— the universe is
always so foreboding.
i just wanted to write
a few goddamnn poems
why does everything
have to be so damn
uneasy all the time
ps :
if i wanted a relationship
between the emission &
absorption spectrum
of chemical elements
i’d have been too scared
to ask , but that’s still no
reason for giving me one
Chapter 7: Rescue
No sailors stumble off battered boats
To fall into lovers’ arms – not today.
I didn’t believe I would see him.
Another year – empty docks, another winter coming –
My only wish – that he is still alive somewhere –
How vain? How selfish?
Perhaps he is better off dead.
Walk home in the dark,
Moonlight flickers,
Torchlight flickers,
Strange shapes hang from trees –
Giant fish strung up to bleed.
No, humans. No, something like.
Three bodies swing in darkness.
Blood pools beneath in black stains.
Giant wings drape from their backs like grace
Incarnate.
One of these creatures, these men, is still alive.
Cut him down, catch his heavy body falling.
Help, but help hurts.
A night of care
A gift of thanks: a necklace like a rose
Delivered by his mysterious companions,
A promise of help in dire times –
Just call.
I remember the nights you use to love me without distraction
The days you were relentless with your passion for us
I remember the fairytale you planned out
And I remember the day you tore it apart
I blamed myself
For the destruction of the pedal stool I thought you once built for me
I thought my lie was the reason for our disconnect.
So I tried harder
Harder to please you
Harder to satisfy you
I wanted you to know you were my everything
And when you threw that away I felt as though maybe I just wasn’t worth it
For months I was uneasy and you made it seem like I was just jealous or paranoid
Like it was nothing
You were just busy
But I knew you
I know you
I’ve been with you when you were busy but it never stopped you from loving me
That was your first mistake
You should have never shown me that what you later said was impossible was possible
You shouldn’t have forgotten the time when you were in love with me
Your actions
The consistency
You forgot because you were distracted
Your mistake was not thinking I would notice the little things
Your mistake was not knowing I would
But you know me remember
You had me down packed o
So why wouldn’t you realize?
There were small inconsistencies that I never mentioned because I didn’t want to be right
I wasn’t blinded by love I just chose not to see
I wanted to give you a chance to actually be different for me
Life keeps playing me
Like a band from the 70’s
Sometimes reckless and loose
Other times soft and sweet
With a rhythm all its own
Beaten daily like a bongo drum
When it comes to decibels
It’s having too much fun
With the picking of the lead guitar
Which won’t stop screaming till it’s found its mark
I’m feeling not so much a fan
But more of a fallen star
Guess with what is left I’ll just join the band
Before the band gets the upper hand
Then eventually
I’ll come to understand
Why life keeps on playing me
Like a band from the 70’s
Sometimes reckless and loose
But also soft and sweet
Ideas in your head.
Dance in your feet.
Navigate yourself.
Any destination will do.
The photograph – it’s crooked
They’re sitting on a balcony at dusk,
it’s a café in Krakow
the layered dessert in the center of the table
with sharp-sided precision of geometry.
But their faces are soft,
enjoying the adventure of new love
on cobbled side streets.
20-something hostel love.
Why’s the photograph always tilted
She fixes it each time she walks by.
Maybe it’s from the construction site down the hill,
setting off explosives at noon.
Monday to Friday-
vibrations travel through the house;
the sunroom rattles and cats hide.
or it was an earthquake-
what if she was alone
The glass sunroom would surely shatter.
The bathroom or his walk-in closet-
that’s where she’d go.
!
!
!
How’s it possible to be this high up and compressed?
He’s not here
even when he is
The photograph – it’s crooked
Cans of frosting I love to eat,
Just whenever I have a seat.
My favorite kind is milk chocolate
It just can’t be beat.
I eat it when I need something sweet
or sometimes when I’m bored,
It lasts a while and keeps me full
When people see they are floored.
I guess it seems weird or kinda crazy,
but it’s cheaper than candy bars and
helps me when my money is lazy.
Refactor your code
it is never truly done
you can always do it better
cleaner
more elegant
there is always something nubile and fresh
a new framework
a new programming language
a new device
Keep up!
Object oriented programming (OOP) versus Functional programming (FP)
Keep going!
Angular versus React versus Angular2
Objective C versus Swift versus Swift2
Do not stop!
facebook destroyed myspace
smartphones obliterated Nokia
there will be a new one and a new one and new one
Do you want to be relevant?
Yes!
Do you like this job?
Yes!
Look ahead into your machine and do not ever stop.
At the beak of dawn
I can feel the ocean breeze
gently waking me,
and I hear the doves cooing;
I don’t hear my hummingbirds.