24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I’m hot, sweaty, cranky for sure.
Running errands in this heat is not fun when searching for a parking space.
I growl and curse, but finally a space opens.
Inside, I relax and receive practical help, but then I’m outside in the heat again.
Cars jam in the lot before I can escape, then, alas I must wait for a train!
Now I am home and cooling down, but betcha if I’m crossed I’ll still be cranky (Alas, too hot!)
Always green
Always green but rarely seen
The scene that’s green.
Through the door
Will it be there any more
If I try and reach it through the door?
In shadows we will watch you
As the light tries to tempt us in
I reach for you, an unseen force
From there? Or from within?
I try to connect on a level plain
And realise that I want more
Reflections; reactions can’t be forced
So I’m walking through that door
Venir, Veni,
voluptous verbs villified
into the meaning of lust.
To come, have come, will come,
Travailler, travaillez
Travaillez pour vous, mon amour,
To work, to have worked. As we do, love,
Sur Rise!
ren To
der falls, the French sur
Innocent phrases for the dirty mind.
I smile often
Despite the pain
Denying the existence
of this physical strain.
I see the world
As I want it
To be
A world in which
We should always
see.
Beauty, laughter and Light
In all places.
As joy moves through all
empty spaces.
Bringing happiness to those
in need
And improving all life,
Yes, indeed.
Copyright 2015, Ingrid Exner
Dreaded time has come …
His long time battle ended in a long run.
Bottled monster … long and short had long gone.
What remains was replaced by pain and regrets.
A life lived in a pathetic state.
Life with him was a roller coaster …
One week sober … one month of heaven.
A month with monster in a bottle … a year in hell.
Though he struggled to stand in dignity;
We witnessed his defeated fight in futility.
We were fashioned in his wit …
But not defined by his grief.
Served as a trophy of the life he didn’t dreamed off.
As he loved us the best he could.
But the bottled monster that gleamed in blood;
Sparkled like an enchanting temptress …
Lurked him in a fog.
As he whispered his last breath …
Tears abundantly flowed … not in pain but resigned.
He held my hands and mouthed the words.
“Thank you for loving me … despite of.
“Hush” … I said … “You are fine Dad.”
As I kissed him, in my heart and in my thought.
He loved us the best he could.
cathedral walls
giving way to
the sunlight…
framing
a warm June afternoon
after a strong rain
with thunderstorm…
no more dust left
not even the fluff
from dandelions
next to the
crumbling walls…
from last year
no more raindrops
lying down
before my
footsteps
These eyes have hosted a million tragedies
This heart has fought a thousand battles
These hands have handled a dozen mishaps
These feet have walked a score of miles
These fingers have picked at hundreds of scars
This head conjures terrible things
These bones are broken in many places
This mouth spits up vats of poison
These legs dance to the wrong instruments
This body is flawed
This body is broken
This body is mine
This body is strong
This body is perfect.
Cold wind heavy rain
Johnny’s heart’s broken again
Pitter pitter pat
