24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
any age young or old can learn
so many things
happening in his or her life
learning is an unending endeavor
learning surpasses all boundaries
no matter whatever age level does
keeping into heart
whatever learning we have
sometime relearning it or unlearning
to spring new learning unto this lifetime
Beauty you and you haven’t changed since the last moment I saw you wearing the towers you grew and stretch so high i
your gray streets marked with the droppings from cars in passing
leaving their scent behind
making their territory
my breath hangs above me on those chilled Saturday nights when conversations dangle in the air, falling into the sidewalk cracks waiting to be picked up and used again
in those perfect moments are the most desirable
weekend warrior themselves strip their suits and untangle their ties
parading on your streets with their excuses in hand while firing slurred adjectives and nouns
bridges gap from one moment to the next where life begins and ends in a single heart beat that belongs to the inhabitants you cradle in your skeletal structures
looming above me
keeping me safe
Sleep deprivation.
Sounds worse than it is. Just
Makes my brain fuzzy.
Memories, every day,
Sewn into a square.
It’s past halfway,
Multicolored, and it may
Be big enough to share.
I’m outlining my halo
with a silver line
inspired by the smiles
that I’d hope to find
Initially I saw you
and Instantly I knew
that my intentions were to be born
with great words from you
I feel like a predator
But I am seemingly a lamb
your beauty is substantial-
written in the sand.
It’s been three years, I forget your hands
I forget your tattoos
I forget you
Thriving is
Prospering,
time to go, grow and glow.
Flourishing,
then you boom,bouncing and blooming,
Go move and get moving.
This prompt is to take a common proverb, such as “don’t count your chickens before they hatch” and turn it into a poem. You can choose any proverb or common saying. The proverb can appear as it normally does in the poem, or you can twist it. It can be a small part of the poem or its core.
Some say I am a witch, a comforting thought.
‘My other car is a broom’.
But that means I am free to fly into the night,
to laugh like nothing else matters, to let go of the wheel
because the broom will take me outside the box.
My mother was the first one – she let go of me, cut off
all my roots so that I flew for dear life. Now, instead
of two wings, I have two wings times three.
© Ella Wagemakers, 07.59 Dutch time (= 1.59 EST in the US)
Show a lil skin
Attention will begin
Onlookers will include prior rejectors
Who failed to see your potential
It will all be shallow though
Unless there’s a diamond in the rough
Realizing it takes time to build the kinda stuff that endures
Especially love
Your curves
Your cleavage
Showing off your physical best features
Maybe next time you can show your heart
But then who will be waiting?