24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I throw the ball and u fetch it for me.
I call your name and you run back so quickly for all to see
You run around in circles chasing your tail for hours
Then you give up and look at me begging for treats, that bone he chews in no time he devours
As powerful you are you’re a gentile teddy bear always at my side
My big furry friend all cuddled up your so sweet tomorrow I’ll take with me for the ride
she sings a wildly original tune
repeats it precisely
then never again
endlessly
Swimming in the plankton sea,
my running fear caught up with me.
My hopes and dreams can not be found,
reaching, groping as they drown.
One thing so powerful,
neither money,
nor love,
Its something
we share
as a writer
as a reader
its a bond
which keeps us going
hand in hand
we stand strong
A power only ‘us’
can provide …..
Five is my lucky number, so I was very pleased when this number came out of the hat. So much so I’ve got two poems up for your delectation. I wish I had a chance to give the first one, one more verse, but oh well.
#55
1.
snakes alive
give us a bunch
it’s all the fives
some famous
some jackson
& one renault
no prizes
for picking
the odd one
out
clearly the Renault 5
French supermini
aka Super 5
aka Supercinq
aka Le Car
true to its number
they built nearly
5.5 million of em
take that Timmy
& Tito too
*****
2.
— snakes alive!
the sort of
interjection
my mother
spouts at the footy
to vent her
frustration
contempt
disgust
with how
the game
is proceeding
& the players
performing
along with other
almost obsolete
idioms as:—
— alack & alas!
— boomshanka!
— ay, ay, chihuahua!
sometimes it seems
as if she wants to be a pirate
with her:— cor blimey!’s
— blooming heck!’s
— shiver me timber!ing
— gee whillikers!
— suffering suckatash!
& — gadzooks!
a vendetta
against god’s creatures:—
— loveaduck!
— leapin’ lizards!
— jiminy crickets!
— holy mackerel!
— ye gods & little fishes!
other times she berates
people not even present:—
— jumping Jehoshaphat!
— Jiminy Cricket!
— my giddy aunt!
— blimey charlie!
& then there’s the ones
that simply make no sense:—
— och aye the noo!
— pish posh migosh!
& — thunderations above!
& she wonders
why i’ve taken up
macramé
#10. Another low number. Though I think I’m due a short poem soon.
The birds woke me up this morning with some new sounds.
I can never memorize which is which, all of it is musical. It’s as though
the sun switched on the light and surprised them all.
And so it is every sunrise. I could invent a name for every birdcall,
a different name for each day. They wouldn’t care. The songs would
stay the same, perhaps with a mutant variation from year to year.
I am the one who would change. My voice would be deeper, my text
would vary in cadence. My feathers would turn grey, my wings shorter.
If she could see me now, my mother would find me changed beyond
recognition.
© Ella Wagemakers, 01.56 Dutch time (= 19.56 EST in the US)
Whimpers under the golden sunset
Lying awake
On top of the sweetest grass beads
And scratches
Golden dawn sleeps
Echoes- whimpers dry and weep
Crying for the master
Silence
Kisses
The blessings of each hair line
Of warned protection
The soul misses
This feeling
Between
All of them
I adopted Molly four days ago.
She is sleeping at my side.
Her foster mom knew nothing about her dad.
I adopted little Molly for her playful nature.
She loves food of all kinds.
She likes playing with toys and in the garden.
I adopted Molly so Tsunami would have a little sister.
She likes him a lot.
He barks at her and she barks back. It’s working
We climbed out a window and lay on the roof.
The Universe sprawling out above us, in all directions.
I fell in love long ago with the silent silver streaking
Of shooting stars.
Fragments flaming, falling.
The crisp pinpricks of distant suns,
Some daring to be blue or orange to a human eye.
The black spaces in between, so full of what we cannot see.
Once I saw a comet, its tail a smudge.
It sat there, as though it were ordinary,
As though it did not come from the icy edge
Of all that we hold dear.
And once, an eclipse of the moon;
It turned blood red before my eyes.
It did not disappear,
But sat there disquietingly
In its rouge.
I fell like a star from the sky
A ball of flame to blackened ground
As I stood in darkness
Fallen from the heights
Of great and luminous beings
I stood on earth liberated
I felt free and well
To think as I please
A challenger to that tyrant
Who would call himself god
No man is god to me
and no man should be
a god but to himself.
I stood amoungst man
Who called me Morning star,
Lucifer to their tongue,
I am the great illuminator,
Of light and knowledge
Of truth for oneself,
I gave them their right
to their own minds.
Of knowledge for good,
Or evil, No one being
purely either
I gave them also burning desire
For knowledge and truth,
For passion and pleasure,
For hate and love,
For the coo of a dove,
Or the howl of the wolf
That primal nature
Which all men harbor
For power and glory
For their own honour
Man stood mystified and fearful
Then some lamented
Their loss of innocence
Some foolishly wished only for bliss
A blind kiss from some misbegotten holiness
But you cannot have joy without pain
You cannot know glory without first knowing disdain
A man can’t truly live life without death
A life isn’t lived without loss
For with nothing to lose there is nothing to gain
So I be a snake in the sand?
Or am I something more grand?
Truth must be sought
Like Liberty is forever fought
While some kneel or bow
I stand strongly sound
Forever a rebel
I fight for my own heart!