24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
We need to talk.
We need to see.
We need each other.
We need a moment alone.
We need to have faith.
We need kindness.
We need trust.
We need love.
We need the way we compliment each other.
We need the feelings we share.
We need the idea of us will endure.
I need you.
we need one another
we need to support one another
we need to spur one another
we need to bring vitality to one another
we need to be with each other
in each other springs life anew
in each other sparkling another to life loving
Little Mouse
Virginia Carraway Stark
Little black teardrop
Mouse
Brought to the bearer of light
Big eyes
Of black
Ness
Eating up
Potential with
Little chittering teeth
Long tail
Dark brown fur
Fallen to doom
In this
The thirteenth
Of June
Hustle till I can’t see,
muscle not necessary,
bustle because the brook is deep,
subtle as far as eye can see,
huddle is where I wanna be,
muddle so you can picture me,
escape until eternity,
imprint so you remember me.
Purple deep and dark,
I hear no trees but wind-cars.
I will fall back in.
With my heart tucked into my pocket I flew into the massive city of San Francisco where petrified giants and delicious cacophony consumed me
In that city I met beautiful women, with delicious skin, blonde hair,and blue eyes that pierced my soul
When I wasn’t falling over the street curbs and cracks in the sidewalks, I was falling in love with every single woman that smiled at me
sometimes i wonder if anyone has actually seen me
i know with obvious senses they have
whether through sight, smell, taste or touch
but have they SEEN me
the parts that sometimes aren’t what they appear
the parts they have to engage
look for
dust off
uncover
to clear cobwebs from
that no one has looked for in a long while
possibly ever
the very best parts of me that have been packed away
waiting
in the attic way up high & the basement down below
waiting to be discovered
they were packed away long ago when they kept getting forgotten
when people stopped looking for them
if they even ever did before giving up if it became a challenge to look harder
the actual search required too much effort
keeping only what pieces out that were needed or beneficial
the rest got stashed
the best things
the most valuable
the ones that got overshadowed
that went unused
the best parts
they got put in boxes, on shelves, behind closet doors & inside cabinets
stored away in hopes that one day they would be found or needed
when i ask if anyone has seen me
the real question might be
how long has it been
since i have seen myself
since i have allowed myself the opportunity to be seen
to be unpacked
unearthed
opened
how much have i simply allowed myself & others to put me in boxes
boxes i never belonged in to begin with
My mother’s clothes
always smelled of yeast and flour,
cinnamon sugar and vanilla.
For years I thought her apron
was sewn onto her dress.
She never took it off, except on
Sundays, when church was mandatory.
Daddy, her husband, had been ordained
although he secretly drank in the woods
and molested her daughters, the neighbors’
daughters, too, if he could lure them to revival.
Like Steinbeck’s Casy, always fingering his buttons,
most preachers can’t be trusted with daughters.
I can see mama donning her apron dress, returning
to the oil cloth table, the rolling pin, the gas oven
that might explode in all our faces,
if we ever told.
Dark,moist,rich soil
From your fertility springs life
Green,poking shoots erupt
Seed coats sitting jauntily like hats upon cotyledons
Seeking things to climb on and
Warm, bright light to convert to energy
When a drop rain falls on a rose.
It melts the petal.
Just like our life .
When a petal from a tear that falls on a rose.
The rose was from a love that is gone.
When a drop of rain falls on a rose.
The rose melts.
Petal of our life is as tender as a rose.
Petal on a rose