24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Got paid today, got me a pocket
full of change. Ding dong, dang doorbell
rings. Landlord’s got his hand held
out. Crank my truck, tank’s on
E. Gut growls, FEED ME
SEYMOUR! No more
money, still
too much
month.
(A nonet is composed of nine lines, beginning with nine syllables in line one, eight syllables in line two, and so forth, until the final line is only one syllable, giving off the visual appearance that the poem is slowly disappearing.)
“Shhht”
“Hey! Shhht!”
What’s a way to get your crush’s attention?
Walk up all sly, slip on a smile
then drop a pickup line:
“Am I in heaven?
because I see an angel in front of me?”
Or do you blow a whistle while
jumping up down
calling out their name
to make them turn around
to the tune of “Brown Eyes”?
Are you the kind that
orders a drink and yells,
“‘Mere!”
And try to impress them
with an old joke,
“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
Nah.
We natives have a way to get your attention.
We call it the “mating call”.
It’s a sound that comes naturally
When we see someone we like,
and warn strangers to be wary of it.
It sounds like a short electric static
with urgency.
It can make you turn around confusion
and face us.
“Shhht!”
“What’s your clans?”
So, as a native telling non-natives.
Beware of noises that come from behind,
it can either be a mating call
or just some noise.
Breathing flowers
Tasting rain
Drowning children
Pumping hearts
Crying out for freedom
Tasting flowers
Making friends
Higging children
Calling nature
Giving her CPR
Tasting flowers
Pregnant pause
Rushing home
Catching waves
Growing sunshine
Tasting dlowers
Roses are red, one petal
two petals,
three petals, four petals
don’t wither, my love is a forever
Violets are blue, don’t fade,
I’ll be bold to call you love, in cold or hot
In good or trying time, let the world
choose to be against me,
I’ll still call you Rose, I’ll still buy you gold chain,
diamond ring and sky blue Queen’s gown.
You are beautiful, I love
you
© Àdèlé
My gender is a million beautiful things.
a lump of fuzzy blankets.
the chime of a bicycle bell.
the head on a just poured stout.
the swirling mists wafting from the hot cup of coffee on an empty patio on an October morning.
a dog eared page in a yellowing book.
the way the light shines off of brown eyes blinking away sleep on a saturday morning.
your favorite magnet on the fridge.
the sunshine yolk of an over medium egg.
a sheen of sparkling condensation on the pint of ice cream when you get home from the grocery store before you put it in the freezer.
a fan that has been run high every single night since you can remember getting it.
a toasted brioche bun.
a watercolor painting of wildflowers that grow only on the hills of your dreams.
the dirt that is still stuck in your hiking boots in the spring.
the way your eyes roll into the back of your head when you take that first sip of cool water after mowing the lawn.
the first ray of sunshine that breaches the mountain pass in spring.
the caramel at the bottom of your latte.
It is every glimmer and beauty that shines in a day
We wear masks
To protect ourselves from Covid
Some think it makes us safer
Some think it’s complete BS
But amidst Covid is not the only time
We wear masks
We have been wearing them all of our lives
Whether we’ve realized it or not
Anytime we say we are okay when we’re not
Every time we pretend to be or like something to be accepted
We wear masks
They’re just not physical
Maybe it does protect us
Or maybe the world would be better if we showed our true selves
But I think more often than not
We wear masks
She is a teacher yet unmarried
She wants to stay unmarried
And enjoy her life.
It is a multicultural school in Bradford
Lots of Indian girls are her pupils
They love weddings and all that entailed
Beautiful food, beautiful clothes
The full bridal wear, the jewellery
The marriage ceremony they like it
The bride and groom going around ]
The fire seven times –
The groom wearing beautiful clothes
His face covered with rows of pearls
His turban full of gold.
“How come you don’t want
to get married Miss
A Wedding Man is Bliss
You must get married, Miss
You Must get Married Miss.
The teacher can’t add anything to this
It feels like an order!
Tap
Your toes yeah
Snap
Fingers yea
In
a jazzy groove
Heed
the warning
No
half stepping
Jazz
will make you move
Hour 7
(using the photo prompt…….sunflower fields have been very popular in Ohio over the last few years!)
LOVE IS ALL YOU NEED
As the morning dawns
On a crisp, fall day
The sun radiates through the bedroom window
Gently nudging us to rise.
We awaken to a world of endless possibilities.
As long as we share kindness
There will be hope.
The day unfolds
As we glide through the blue skies
Warmed by the sun now high above us
Like a well nurtured sunflower display
Field after field, seeming endless with it’s beauty
We reap the goodness of what we sow.
As long as we share hope
There will be love.
We feel content, full of life and love.
At day’s end, we lay
Under the light of the harvest moon
With it’s vast blanket of stars
We give thanks for the earth’s blessings.
And we know in our hearts
That when we share love
Together we can enjoy another day.
One mistake
Just one, small mistake,
Inconsequential in the grand scheme
Of life and the universe.
And yet it is enough
To awaken The Spiral.
The Spiral of thoughts
That begin with “You messed up”
And ends with “You’re too flawed
To be truly loved.”
My logical brain knows
It’s the result of faulty wiring,
Not to be trusted,
And not at all true.
But The Spiral persists,
The sound growing louder,
Louder, louder until it’s screaming
And I am paralyzed,
Unable to find the motivation,
To find the purpose of even moving.
In The Spiral every flaw is scrutinized,
Viewed under my mind’s strongest microscope.
Every moment of imperfection is weighed and measured.
Even moments of happiness and joy
Are not safe from The Spiral.
The Spiral tells me that I am not enough,
That I am too broken.
It tells me no one would ever want to carry
The burden of my brokenness.
The Spiral tells me to keep
My deepest hurts, my darkest thoughts to myself.
It tells me that my friends who care
Will change their mind if they knew.
And if they don’t, eventually they will
Realize that the burden of my being
Outweighs any good I bring to their lives
And they’ll see it’s easier
To just walk away.
The Spiral is a demon and a liar.
The Spiral does not have my best interest in mind.
The only interest The Spiral has is my destruction.
It is an enemy I have fought many times
And will likely fight many more times.
Sometimes it lies dormant, quiet in its cage.
But now and then, without warning,
It breaks free and the battle commences once more.
Some days The Spiral is overwhelming
And I wonder if it’s even worth the fight.
But to quit isn’t in my blood
So I rise up, each and every time,
And I face down the enemy of my mind.
Because losing to The Spiral
Is not an option.