24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
In the tender light of flames, where our desires lie, unfolding,
madly we burn,
inhibitions gone,
where the shadows on the walls dance a lustful ballet,
to the growling whispers,
with a firm hand on a bare throat, vibrating, primal,
teeth on bare flesh, surrendering to your touch,
at 3am
where time slows in this world of shadows and hushed aches
It’s early
Too early
And there’s still too much to do
And there’s still so much
I can’t get through
But we’re on to new beginnings
And soon to some place new
Just need to pack one last thing
Okay one or two…
The moving feels so endless
Memories feel like forever
And this home was like my dream
But here alone is just the chair
And knick-knacks for the team
To load up in their truck
And haul far far away
To a place I hope will be home for me
A place that’s truly free.
Hi there everyone! i
I am Aishwarya Vedula from India.
This is my third time participating in poetry marathon, looking forward to read & absorb all of your works.
Goodluck. 🙂
How did so much come to nothing
Leaving just an empty space
When everything was over
And there were no truths left to face
Just aching walls of silence
With a window to the past
Highlights where it all went wrong
And where we tried to make it last
It’s almost like a crime scene, now
Missing just a chalked-up outline
To represent the bodies
Who we were before the fault line
Came crashing down around us
Like a plane we couldn’t fly
Or an ocean bent on flooding
Every dream we held inside
I look around that empty room
Deep inside my soul
To remind myself of all I’ve lost
Before I turn to go
There’s nothing left in there for me
It’s time to lock the door
And leave behind the memories
Of who I was before
That one brief shining moment
Those too few wonderous years
That were only just a fairytale
There’s no happy ending, here.
~Mandy Kocsis©2023~
Kyow, Kii-ow,
Gull, she sings the sea,
Coo-ah, coo, coo, coo,
Dove, cries her woes to me.
Seeadit, chew-chew,
House Sparrow chatters through the day,
Wheeeeer, wheet!
House Finch argues with quite a lot to say.
Pelican doesn’t say much, but wings beat with a
Thwap thwap thwap thwap,
And the Mallard that shares her home gives a,
Rasping kreeeep, quack!
What’s that sound like sci-fi guns? Hummingbird’s
Chiiick, chee-chee-chee-chee,
And though I’ve never heard one yet, I’d love to hear a
Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!
   Floatation only works when both bodies cannot sync.
Â
On the day my brother first learnt
To swim, someone died with
A strange song in their mouth.
The wind would then crack my
Mother’s healthy lungs and plant
An ache, the size of a cough.
Our house would then open
And swallow condolences.
Ours mouths would then sing
And squeeze hope-prayers.
Our songs would then break
And fill all the pores on our bodies.
Our God would then open me to reality,
On the day my brother first learnt to swim,
His body and the river were both made of
Light so they sync, the river would then
Flow and casts its burden by the shore,
Where my brothers water-filled body
Would later be found —sync.
It’s the easiest way
Daddy boils tomatoes, the redness
bobs in the pot like balloons released
in the wind, sailing towards home. He stirs,
wooden spoon an oar in treacherous
waters. Until splat, a bubble bursts
and lands on his arm. He cries out.
He takes out his knife and cuts,
slices into the skin and peels.
The mystery
The rest have left, their unspoken music still haunts the corners at the tops of the walls, catches then reverberates in the curves and hollows of the art glass shade and rattles the broken element in the fixture
And the taps are empty now, hoses hold only air, barrels still compressed and half full of belches and the quarrels of the slightly inebriated.
The others cleared off after one raised yet another opinion and that mother’s other baby (long since grown) found a bottle to break and swing and freckle the walls with, cloud the air with the last smoke they’d shared just outside the back door 5 minutes before
that nobody saw
write a poem of all questions
how do you hold hope?
where does it hurt?
how long has it?
when did it start?
are you afraid it won’t ever stop?
it’s stopped?
for how long?
were you devastated when it returned?
i mean
how devastated were you when it returned?
do you feel alone?
i’m sorry
how long have you been alone?
are you lonely?
i’m sorry, what i mean is
are you still lonely
or has lonely become too familiar to feel?
Into the marsh she glides
every night at fiveÂ
No one know where she goes
or how she returns so spry.Â
It’s an older woman she is
until she sinks into thick
gooey muck to her knees
wrinkles gone from her neckÂ
Old when she enters gnarled and bentÂ
she walks out young and tallÂ
Although curiously invitingÂ
and very beautiful to the eye
One best bet is never to try. Â
One should never look into
the gray-blue waters of the sea
Once there you’ll never return