24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Why would I tell the world
My favorite thing?
My most precious
Beloved
Possession?
Are you kidding me?
After what I’ve been through?
Just to tempt those who want it all?
All I’ve got? All I’ve earned? All I’ve ever had?
I may as well hang it
By a ribbon
From my car.
What one possession
Is my obsession?
What do I treasure more than gold, frankincense or myrrh?
My camera, my memory maker,
Recorder of dreams and scenes,
Preserver of people,
Sharp as a needle,
Life through a lens,
Anxiety ends
When things are brought into focus
And captured in calmness,
My camera –
A loyal best friend.
(c) Gemma Hinton 14/6/15
I sit at the type writer.
Words come from my finger tips.
Short quips and poor rhymes.
Beautiful love poetry and sad lines.
Odes of my life and sonnets for Rachel.
The same songs with a new tune.
I am sitting here. Pretending I am the
greatest poet to ever live.
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.