24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I’ll come late
to take you to that frozen lake
by the way of circumstance…clouds will part like one last chance.
We will dance with arrows beating through our sullen hearts:
expose our secrets in a snow-still twilight
proving that love is laid bare.
Soul-struck music will guide our fragile footsteps
to where silence and light reign,
eternal- revolving around the chorus beyond the stars.
Someday, we will thaw and break off like icebergs…
and float all around the sound.
Good morning
To be honest
My head is underwater
It always is when I write
Like I am swimming
Drowning in thoughts
Using the breast stroke
To maneuver through
Massive amounts of momentum
Not my treasure island
More like soft moonlight
After hours
A night of drinking
Hung over with ideas
Blurbs in my brain matter
The inevitable crash or vomiting
At party’s end
Sometimes I would love
To see a word
Make it my friend
Let it go
But instead it envelopes me
A sea drowning me
Water encasing me
Filling my lungs
Like a disgruntled lover
Taking over my soul
To be honest
Cheerful mornings
Not my thing
Night is more me
Hell not even soft moonlight
I am like a cloud filled night sky
Exploding in stars
Just out of reach
Foggy and barely visible.
I hold my head, my eyes water
Still drunk
But not remembering how to be sober
Knowing these words
Are just a one night stand
Tricking me into believing
They really mean something
I turn the pages of my father’s book.
Grabbing my blankets, I get cozy in a nook.
The soft moonlight caresses the first page.
It smells of old age.
The first sentence grabs my attention and I get sucked in.
It was so silent I could hear the drop of a pin.
Page after page, I kept turning into the after hours of the night.
I didn’t stop until first morning light.
Best adventure yet.
The craziest characters I ever met.
Who knew a book so old could be the best story ever told.
the notion of chickens
meandering through tall grasses
pecking, scratching, foraging for bugs
ambling over to greet you
is far more romantic
than the reality of
six crowing roosters
little buggers
shaking you from your dreams
just before dawn
beneath ceiling fans
marking time like metronomes
I became ‘foreign’
Eastern, not Western
I would never fit again
even where my blonde hair
drew no curious dark hands
where my pleated skirt
looked just like the other girls
I was suspect, alien
that wood ceiling fan
began the process of change
circles circling round
the transformation of breath
the wings that would haunt & lift
Fall asleep.
Blink.
Good morning.
Begin the day.
Blink.
Good evening.
A child is born.
Blink.
University.
Chase after hours.
Blink.
Memories are fading.
Go back to reclaim them.
Blink.
Catch the soft moonlight.
My children’s children.
Blink.
Grown and leaving.
Fight the darkness.
Blink.
Fall asleep.
Prompt: Incorporate three of five suggested phrases.
Form: Invented. I’ll think of a name for it tomorrow.
“Good morning!”
I hear you sing
I turn over to look at you
Smiling
Smiling at me
The sun illuminating the room
A kiss on the forehead
I smile again
Be honest
Last week you told me
We wouldn’t be here again
I wouldn’t have to hurt again
Frowning
I turn away
You touch my shoulder
I frown again
I see you
It’s late
After hours
We laugh, we play
You tell me about your day
Suddenly we’ve managed to keep all
the bad stuff at bay
I sigh in contentment
You touch my cheek
I sigh again
Another cycle begins
Our Bandit, my baby
My old baby
Muzzle gray
Eye milky
Fatty tumors on his tummy
Often sore, he doesn’t like to be touched
On his belly
Ears
Feet
He sleeps under blankets – always has
He sleeps with us – always has
He sleeps more and more
He growls and bares his teeth when John works on his eye
He snaps
Fifteen come October
He’s slowing down and full of life
Still stupid around cats
Tries to hump any dog from any angle
(Don’t worry bitches, he’s fixed)
Terrified of thunderstorms
He shows signs of PTSD during fireworks
As a puppy, he was “rescued” and bounced from family to family until he settled with us
Bandit loves long walks in the park
Catching squirrels with John
Car rides,
Bike rides
I hope he still likes bike rides
He tumbled out of the basket the last time we rode.
He doesn’t like his feet wet.
Bandit pees in the corner
We have an agreement
We take a walk if he doesn’t pee in the house
He shook on it
He’s peed in the corner one time since and was chagrined
Bandit thinks it’s polite to drink from the puddle before gingerly walking through it.
He defends us from the murderous postman daily
He protects me from John or anyone else that comes too close to my chair without petting him first
Bandit is always concerned about our diet
Sniffing and inspecting our mouths and food to make sure
He knows when I’m sick or hungover and stays by my side
He’s a wonder dog.
He has his own theme song
Bandit, the wonder dog
He’s a wonder
He’s a dog
He’s the wonder dog!
I look around the globe
Looking for love
That I long
A love that no end points
I didn’t found it
From this people bit
Nor idiot’s lip
Or crown to deep
I walk from one place to another
Looking for a stranger
Who could probably give
A love to keep
After hours we talked
I found the love
Not took about
Nor say it loud
A stranger’s love to be honest
Can take life a million rest
Everywhere, anywhere
A love can be better
In my journey, I found love
From a stranger’s heart
Through this treasure island
I kept not to be apart