24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Gently rustling leaves
dance delightfully
as if there’s a sneeze
tickling the beech tree.
The playful wink of the rising sun
finds me in the same position
as when the frown of the setting one
departed for dark abandon.
I make for a dishevelled sight,
stiff and cramped, creaky an’ all,
but I’ve been writing poetry all night
and inside I’m feeling ten feet tall.
Gratitude, respect and admiration
for this amazing marathon.
I like to think the love it’s not just a four letter word. Love captives the soul of your significant other and touches your soul in the moment of the first kiss.
—Meriyen Marquez
O’ Storyteller, Bard of My Youth –
Please, make the dolls dance.
I cannot bear such silence.
By Karen Sullivan
Form: Lament
Ongoing still, the oration of an ancient story
Aging ever faster, ever growing gaunt and hoary
A tale so old and often told
Of gold for blood and blood for gold
Recited countless times before the jury
How warm the blood, the gold how cold
Ever echoing from glen to wold
This immortal, devouring story
Rose-tinted tales of valour and glory
The truth behind more dark and gory
Fear and loathing for the old
Death and murder for the bold
And yet a useful allegory
For those earnest and intrepid-souled
Those seeking to reform the mould
And ink another, kinder story
With landscapes so lovely
It’s hard to not be joyous
Immersed in this loud
Bustling city
A sense of peace
Makes its way through these city adventures
Yes! City adventures,
You know those that leave you feeling quite lovely
They bring about this tantalizing peace
Joyous
Is what you feel in these busy city
Streets… streets so loud
From the loud
Invigorating adventures
One gets lost and finds oneself in this city
This lovely
Joyous
Place… a place where in the nonstop distractions one can seek its peace
A peace
That silences the noises around and leaves you with your loud
Voices in your mind… they cry with a joyous
Yearning for the inexperienced adventures
Whose memories leave a lovely
After taste in this beautifully tainted city
In this beautifully tainted city
The misunderstood find their peace
In the most unnatural lovely
ways… They look unlike the rest, making statements so loud
One can only see the uniqueness of this city through the unexpected adventures
One decides to take… it is joyous!
Joyous
This city
and its adventures
Create this spell-bounding peace
Even in its loud
And upbeat tempo… One can’t help but feel lovely
Experience this joyous never ending peace
This city creates with its loud
Indescribable adventures… this city is amazing and lovely…
-Angelica Villarruel
As we get old,
Cracking limbs and joints,
Synchronization of bones,
Moving to get fit, to keep my throne.
I place potential lovers into cages of my mind
they scratch numerals on bricks
to keep track of time
they usually lose it,
time is hard to catch
as am I, but a treat to watch
they eventually stop counting
and hum along the tune
and realize it’s
better here
in decorated gloom
than a life of complacency
outside of the room-
because other people would
probably cage them, too
Are you a God, my darling angel?
You, the one who saved me that day.
Was it in May? Or June?
I’d been dead so long.
For months it seems
Flying about with the Sylphs
And faeries.
And then you came.
You with the heavy load upon your back.
You with the smiling eyes and sweaty brow.
They mocked you.
I loved you then as I do now, my Lord,
My God. Are you a God?
I got my love of learning from my father
He also gave it to my brother
I got my love of people from my mother
who also shared this with my sister
I am reminded I am not alone by my friend
and forced to interact by my cat
Of all who know me, the best is my cat
though, the one who understood me was my father
Try as much as she can, I tend to hide from my friend
and have never shared much with my brother
When we were young, I thought I knew my sister
but have never understood my mother
It has been a tough life for my mother
causing her to complain, even about my cat
She depends on so much from my sister
even more so than she had my father
though she has always favored my brother
she never failed to act like a Mom to my friend
and now older, life is different for my friend
I find she acts more and more like my mother
but still doesn’t talk much to my brother
at least she has made up with my cat
and understands how much I miss my father
something I don’t talk about, even with my sister
It is ironic how much alike are my sister
and this now older friend
I wonder how things would be different with my father
what would have changed for my mother
I know he would have loved my cat
and he would be proud of my brother
But would I have stayed close with my brother
would things have moved so completely for my sister
would I have been there to meet my cat
so much is connected to that day, my friend
so much bitterness wrapped up my mother
on the day cancer took my father
It changed my brother, It changed my friend
It destroyed my sister, It destroyed my mother
Is it strange that when I see my cat, sometimes I can feel my father