24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I am not going to answer this question
But…Technically, I am
Why do you want to know who I am?
I don’t even know who you are
I do not know why I exist and the purpose of true happiness
To be full in the spirit
To not want
Or to only want good things
Who am I?
No
I am who…
I am feeling morbid, somewhat
Lost in my own thoughts, but
Connected to the world, through
An umbilical cord in my brain of
Sound and vision.
I can hear the AC turn off and on, however
I don’t feel the air, my body is numb and
There are parts that don’t respond to
The neuron signals any longer; no
Moving or touching.
It’s almost as if I am floating in a vast
Nothingness of space; gravity still works,
But I have no weight for it to pull upon, so
Like a cloud, I am just here with no
Feeling or doubt.
Slowly my eyes begin to close of their own
Accord or maybe my vision simply gives up.
The light is dissipating in swirls and
Tendrils of greys and soft pastels.
Even sounds are gone.
Before the Darkness
Lue
August 13, 2016
Neighborhood gloaming
jars memory of lightning bugs
when jars were glass
and lightning captured
by clever boys
navigating summer
I seek my peace from people’s thoughts
to escape the pain,
I hide myself not well at all
is it in vain?
Alone and safe,
it’s how I feel;
I stay away;
It’s quiet now,
turn off the lights
Lord get me through the day.
What will they think?
why should I care?
from people’s thoughts I flee.
They think; they stare.
Why should they care?
from people’s thoughts I’m free.
You would think this is a love poem
But, I beg to disagree
This is an homage
To be or not to be
It causes one to question their existence and purpose
Love
The apple and the grace
Loving to see the future of kin and a white picket fence
Waiting for that prince/princess to sweep you off of your feet
Love
The danger zone
The safe space
The soft eyes of your lover
And the temptation that made lucifer fall from grace
This day, my dear folks
We are gathered here to welcome
The forever night!
From now, no light will there be
The mornings will be forgotten
God willing, we’ll get used to the new way
The people are requested to pay their last respects
To our dear departing sun
in an orderly fashion, thank you
We will live modestly, the darkness is cozy
The lord will guide us through
Glorious forever night!
[Running a little behind on time, not unlike the White Rabbit with his pocket watch, I opted for a simple form and simple subject. A fluffy little cinquain.]
Rabbit
Timid, Tim’rous
Bouncing, Feeding, Breeding
White in Winter, Brown in Summer
Bunny
The gust of a strong wind
that bursts through the trees
a melody puts
the musician at ease
Like floodwaters ravished
by dry thirsty land
is a poet in motion
with pen in his hand
A swift rushing river
of fresh melted snow
the bush of a painter
the colors, they flow
A glimpse of the lover
the heart feels the rapture
the click of a camera
beauty is captured
As a new mother clings
to the child that is born
an artist holds tightly
to the creation he formed
Also know as the country with the poor people
Never known as the continent with great history
Never seen for its true beauty
Always ripped of its natural resources
Never to be found
Always missing
Hard to love
Great to visit or cleanse your sins with the poor poor African children
That poor poor country
She had some water, he had some sand
A toy duck chased imaginary crabs
The sea smiles from a polite distance