24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Chocolate is not
a universal gift
or acceptable to all
as comfort food.
The looks I get
when I refuse chocolate
being offered to me
are those of surprise
and sheer disbelief.
I wish my weird allergies
to celery and chocolate
were as well known
as those of peanuts
or gluten.
Cigarets and long blacks,
Working half the day,
Two hours to carve out a song,
And carve from time a record made.
To teach and learn and read the signs,
The words to songs you’ll sing.
In short coffee shop conversations,
We map productivity.
If only we all had do-overs.
We could relive a day again and again,
Finding the best solution to every problem that is produced,
And always come out on top.
Near the end, you would have said everything you needed to say, at the proper time, and in the proper tone.
Who needs supersoldiers,
When all you need is unlimited do-overs?
It would be the end to all regrets,
And safety could be 100% ensured.
A “Carnal Cur” she called me.
One that had my teeth first free
To lap the gentle blood of lambs.
Me! Once a king, now accursed of four feet
A wet, cold nose, in this wretched heat.
Never did I buy a single soul!
Indeed, mine I sold for providence
And England. And now I am hence
A slave to fight for men’s merriment.
She cursed me, that Margaret, Queen
And wife of wretched history.
Chained here to fight for death.
And so, I fight. I fight the kings
Of ages past, all wicked things.
We fight, we kings returned.
We fight to tear the faces off
The others, surrounding us a trough
Of blood, and spit, and flesh.
Our flesh. And at the end, I cry.
I grieve my cursed soul and the lie
That bore me here again to death.
I am King Richard III! Do they not know?
Across from me, red eyes aglow,
Was once a Caesar snarling.
Yesterday, I ripped the throat of Hitler
As they cheered. His bones now brittler
Than a chicken’s neck.
I am done now. Weary of my fate,
I whimper to no one. No love, just hate.
Done. Spent. Blood at the light of end.
This randomness is brought
to you by
the letter 2
and the number
Q.
My face would prefer a nap,
Having slept loosely and lightly,
Worried about a multitude of decisions,
None of which life changing or changes
In the long and short of things.
There’s a head that hurts behind these eyes,
A stomach full of bread and fish,
And a heart missing two children.
My neighbor’s child graduates tonight.
And a party across the field
With food, and punch.
A proud moment indeed.
Why do I eat when I am not hungry?
Because I am old, not wise.
I’ve saved my wisdom for the next life,
And used it poorly in the last.
Show me everything
Of what you did against this wall
Tell me the truth
Or I call my brothers
And it will be the worst day
Of your life
Show me everything
But keep it between us
Show me everything
Come here in this corner
Show me everything
My dad is a cop…
Show me everything
The frogs and the skates
The joys and the damage done
When I come back
You got to sort that out
Show me everything
The Road Not Taken is one of the most famous poems ever written. I want you to take that poem and write your own completely original work. The title can be the same but everything else should be different. You can choose to focus on updating the poem, or re-writing it using different words, or take the theme and explore it in a different way. Your poem could just focus on mimicking the tone. You can do anything that you want as long as it ties in with Frost’s poem in some way.
—————————————————————————————————————–
Three streets to choose from in lighthouse town,
And woe is me for time is too short
And as a wanderer, I went round
And walking on the path I soon found
Where the skies kissed the mountains of North;
Knowing which way to go, it’s quite the same
And what is thought to be right is right
Because at pinnacle light soon came,
From places made from cosmic remains
Where dark turned to light and light to night,
And from every peak a worthy view
That will be seen by new and old once there.
Oh, I had the heart to go and do.
But seeing the horizon I knew
My choices are mine alone to bear.
I shall be sharing this without delay
Nowhere eons and eons from here:
Three streets to choose from in town, but they,
They didn’t take any of them anyway,
And they never left that bottom tier.
i thought i was hopeless,
without direction or purpose
until one day i met myself,
coming around the corner of
midlife.
i almost bumped into her,
i was so engrossed in thoughts
i can’t now remember.
but there she was, clear as day,
bright as the sun,
happy to see me.
and i said, “hey, it’s you!”
and this self from beyond midlife
smiled, made her way around me
with a little dance in her step,
and said, with a song in her throat,
“get ready, girl,
your best is yet to come!”