24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
i would eat you off of a spoon
i would take you to the moon
i would take your hand in marriage,
and you’d have it annulled soon
i would take your weight in Advil
i would hold your hand to travel,
i would kiss your best friend twice,
and you’d become entirely unraveled
__ar.
(a lame rhyme-y one)
If I transfer footage I’d be your slave
If I didn’t transfer footage I’d be and asshole
What if I erase
What if I replace
You
Probably sleep
and lots of it
another quiet day?
I can’t guarantee that
This has been fun
a great challenge
my first thoughts were to cringe.
these quotidian phases of life,
these diurnal dimensions we dwell in.
this missing you, the elusive touch,
the feel of your untangled hair,
the smile, slow-spreading like sunlight
on melting snow, and the memory of cerise
lips, wet, eager….unreal.
….these routines we rue,
the lives we choose to cocoon
our twin-souls in now;
all this and more, curvaceous one,
in the unwinding width and beam
of your lissome form, I have felt –
and more than that with you,
I have been.
I am new to this planet
from a race older than earth.
Ancient technology translates
to your simplistic language.
Your liquid totem
is served in cups
and smells deep, earth like.
Many add milk from cows
and often sugar.
Then your brain waves alter
and do what you call
the hokey pokey.
This totem greets you
mostly in the mornings.
But not so much at night.
I don’t understand
why you don’t bow down to it?
Mixtrynki Verstrunkaz Xxkliytrer
The sudden crack of fireworks
leaves a ribbon of sulfur twirling
thick through the August air.
Adolescent laughter billows up.
Cigarette smoke mingles with clouds of gnats.
The night buzzes with a nervous haze.
Dear God,
I know its been a while, and I’m sorry for my absence. Life has been anything but easy, so I’m working on some balance.
Tonight I’m asking for one very special thing, although I’ve asked before. The bible says you hear me, but my human nature says I’m being ignored.
Lord, I’m looking for a man, who fears and respects who you are. Capable of knowing when to back down, and the God given wisdom to take charge.
If you could throw in intelligence, wit, and a sense of humor, I would definitely appreciate! You already know who I’m looking for, you are the owner of my fate.
Someone who is strong enough to hold me up, hold me down, and hold me close. He needs to know how to put me in my place, especially when I need it most.
If he is handsome Lord, I will not argue. I am one to appreciate a man’s beauty. Arms strong, hands stronger, and if you have the time could you throw in a nice booty?
Ok Lord, thank you so much for hearing me out. While waiting for my gift, I’ll take this time to get to know “me” and what I’m all about.
Love,
Me
The soul of a poet
the soul of a poet
yearns for its muse
like a light to a flame
they are drawn
the sparkle of an eye
a thousand images in
a smile
they unite
dancing in the moonlight
gentle evening breeze
a delightful surprise
as fireflies alight
sweet kisses
placed just so
walking arm and arm
happy all along
love between poet and muse
is written in the
words of a poem
brought to life
pen in hand
now inspired
the soul of a poet
must write
I forgot!
I forgot that today was Great Race!
And I couldn’t find even one place…
to sit and be quiet…
as I try to finish this race.
People everywhere, every where.
Every colour,
Every creed,
Every Race.
But how many of those faces were there to take part in this great race?
Or were they sitting on the sidelines,
Practicing,
more likely they were there just spectating.
But life is not a spectator sport.
It would be safer if it were.
Then we would never get hurt.
We would never feel pain.
We would never fail.
We would probably even be content to watch and see others win
in this great race.
We would never cry.
(though eventually we would die).
We would never have to wonder,
Why?
But if we were just spectators,
never partakers,
We would never feel victory.
We would never fall in love.
We would never dance.
We would never know tears of joy.
We would never sacrifice.
We would never know how it feels to get up and keep on trying.
We can’t sit on the sidelines.
Not Today.
Today we need to get out and finish this race.
Dearest Pippi,
Even though I am older and no longer read your books way past my bedtime with a flashlight under the covers; I often find myself longing for your gift of storytelling.
How goes it in the fantastical world of seafaring?
Pirate ships, lost islands, treasure chests full of wonder.
Did Villa Villekula survive the transformation to full-time houseboat?
I knew you were strong enough to make that happen.
I imagine it’s glorious; the perfect way to embark on wild new adventures on the high seas
With a magnificent horse and a wise monkey; and Captain Pippi.
Please tell me you still wear your hair in messy braids?
Those braids held all the strength and magic in the universe.
On days when I really miss you, on days when I need to feel strong, on days when I need some secret magic momentum;
I braid my hair to look like yours.
Everything works out safe and sound.
Missing you always,
Bia