24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
We sit on opposite sides
Staring up at the celestial bodies
Waiting for shooting stars
We make silent wishes
And let our fingers drift
In warm eddies
They touch
Neither of us know anything about the patterns
Painting the sky above us
But we still watch
And marvel
Why do men want flawless women?
Are they flawless? No way! Then?
It is a mystery to be solved, now I have
to make therapy through writing poetry!
As I headed to the finish line of this long and wondrous night
I get the call that you, Aunt Shirl, reached your own, finished your fight.
Throughout my life you were always there for me.
You accepted me, loved me, cared for me.
I do not know what to think, how to understand you are gone.
Gone from this world, at least, but never gone from my memories.
Tears are streaming down my face, even as I smile sadly.
I know you are at peace. I know you were tired.
I am sending my love to you in Heaven.
Vintage continues to survive
Forgotten in the back of a drawer
Cherished perhaps saved for others
Who may never truly deserve
Smiles for those people passed
Salvaged in black and white
Glossy paper patterned edges
Turned over names and dates
Times were better then echoed
As if troubles began only now
Heads knowingly nod in unison
Those censored memories endure
hope is what we choose
when the world is consumed in chaos
when all our dreams are charred
and the only path is through change
hope is the only choice
On a warm afternoon
Sunlight filters through the leaves
Forming shadows on the ground
Covered with yellow leaves
And I am here
In the gentle embrace of warmth
Trying to catch a bit of
Sunlight enchanting me
But how would you catch something
You have already?
In your heart, in mine too
An eternal sunshine flows through.
Keeping warm at the onset of fall
Or be it in the middle of winter blues
A little bit of our own sunlight
That’s ‘Hope’ to you.
Running away has been
such a strange purpose
as I am chased by pigs
feigning greatness.
Peace, such an elusive
state of being
in this state of chaos.
I am almost ready to fight,
but I hate fighting.
Until then… I just keep running.
I rise and see beauty
Clouds floating
Birds gliding
The earth smiles when it rains
We grow happy
When we take care of earth.
“Is it really a profession?” They asked.
“It is, driven by passion,” I replied.
Passionfruit reference?
Full of references, diffrences and multitudes.
Books become the graveyard of letters.
Finally I can see the peak,
the journey turned out to be so neat,
didn’t realize we came to the end,
time to leave until we meet again.
One can take some rest,
enjoy the view,
you are on the top,
time for something new,
we will gather once more,
and celebrate this journey we began.
Time to leave now,
see you next time,
we will meet again!
P.S: Dedicated to my fellow poets who took part in the marathon.