24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I could lay in your arms till my dreams fade away
Watch the stars fall from the sky with you never questioning a thing
I could me the perfect wife for you if I wash my flaws away
Life would be so content with you in the image you create
But I would rather travel this life alone than to watch me fade away
So I will say my goodbye now and walk away
walk away
walk away
Staring contest
The sun always wins
Shining beaming
I try to escape
Heat and humidity are the weapons
Leaving me parched and sweaty
Perhaps I may melt
Pray for me
Before Darkness
‘fore darkness comes the witching hour
‘fore that hour comes the tea
‘fore tea comes sleepy nap time
upon a mother’s knee
‘fore knee naps come simple lunches
of bread and jam and pears
‘fore simple food comes sunny play
amid the scrubby bushes
‘fore sun-kissed cheeks come story times
and fresh, sweet-scented clothes
‘fore newly dressed comes waking mother
with kisses to hands and nose
Before Darkness
Before darkness, there is hope
As humans cling to the dying of the light
Grasping, as if we may yet
Deny it the chance to fade.
Looking back, never forward,
To the prospect of despair.
We do not brace,
But deny, deny, deny
Our American-Dream worldview
Has not prepared us for this.
But before the darkness comes, look it in the face
But be careful, else
It shall fill you up completely
And it will be all you see or taste or know or feel.
Before darkness comes, look it in the face,
Through the face to the heart,
And see the angels hidden inside it.
Angels of comfort, of peace,
Ready to hold you in your darkest hour,
Waiting on orders to send them when needed most:
Humanity’s secret defence
Against the ever-looming darkness.
Secret from us, not from the bringers of the dark.
We cannot know them if we
Deny, deny, deny,
Despair, despair, despair.
Before darkness,
Abandon all hope in yourself, humanity,
That hope which keeps you grasping the dying light,
Denying it the chance to fade,
Looking back, never forward,
To the prospect of despair.
Instead, look forward,
See the prospect of despair,
And alongside it the truth of angels,
That there is a hope greater than you ever knew,
The divine intervention,
The dawn at the end of the dark night.
Does the light come before the darkness or is it just a powerful afterthought
And if it’s an afterthought should I hold my tears back until after the darkness
Just long enough for the light to act as the sun does when the streets are flooded
We stand on this cliff
Teetering in embrace
Staring into the blood red sky
Every mystery awaits
In these arms we will melt
Soon becoming one
Under this brilliant view
Two flames racing the sun
C. Churchill
Letting Go
In May I started turning green
Sitting on the maple limb
A large pointed leaf
Knowing I was a fraud
June brought the bees
Birds and summer rain
My size unchanged but
I was passing unnoticed
July and August and heat
The tree house nearby
With children’s laughter
As they plotted and played
By September I worried
Wiggling in the breeze
Trying my best to belong
Unable to turn gold
It would be October with
Vibrant colors surrounding
When I quietly let myself go
A green youth my undoing
A flower blooms
as beautiful as its gardener foretold.
In a garden only of weeds
with bold and bright petals.
One predicted a flower
so magnificent and nurtured ever so gently.
Fragrantly tender, sweet as cinnamon
rising above lifeless soil of thistles.
BEFORE DARKNESS
Before darkness
There were lilting swings
That reached to the sky
I could kick a cloud with my Keds
And watch it bounce across the sky
There were tiny frogs in
Fountain pools
Jumping into my lap
To disappear into tall grass
Before darkness
Bicycles soared
Kites pedaled into the sky
Light was taken for granted
The monsters under the bed
Disappeared with a small lamp
Before darkness
Anything was possible
Now
Monsters lie in wait
They wear business suits
And drive a Mercedes
Darkness pivots and waves
Always following close at hand
Light still shines
In crevasses and tiny cracks
But darkness rules the day.
first impressions
you sweet bitter.
you rough cotton.
you coffin still.
you paper wave.
you staircase high
on bannister descent into
you summer slips.
you sip sparkle at dinner.
you glass ring laminate.
you eye silence.
you glance red.
you quiet scrape
of chair on wood.
you leave leftovers.