24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I swear, she was just here
I am pretty sure I saw her this past week in class
Biology, right?
Now her stuff from her place is all cleared out?
Weird
Her boyfriend? What’s his name again?
He was there too
I thought I heard him push a heavy suitcase out the back door
I remember because I heard him panting, like a dog
She was so nice, way too good for him
Are you sure she is just not visiting her parents? Did you call them?
Missing, you say?
Oh, that’s not good….
The flowers you gave me are
still here. Still beautiful
in a room that captures light
as if it were a wren
uncomfortable in such a small space
flying into the glass and its double-paned barrier
again and again.
Being strong
Is sometimes hard
but we have to fight and be aware
Because the monster can be as big as a bear.
Hoping for the best
waiting for the rest
wanting to just fly by
but not able to and just cry
Having the strength to go on
pushing and pushing
with no effect
but the pain lessens
and the spiritual glow comes
lifting me up
to the daylight road
There’s a knock at the door
its a quarter to four
IN THE MORNING!
Who will it be?
I don’t know
Let’s open the door
and See
and just like that
the run away cat
pitter pat
the bowl was empty of food
i hope he thought it was good.
5 / 2023 – Unprompted.
Half Marathon
Love on the cards,
and written in stars
Of Glory.
Each symbol
tells a story,
Each word be a token.
Tangible proof,
of courage that’s spoken;
Manifestations,
of efforts awoken.
I’m late! I’m late! I’m late!
I couldn’t find the gate.
You know I slept too late.
You can’t go back,
you’ve lost the track.
Your usual time/timeless insomniac.
Watch it! Don’t have a cardiac attack.
trying on grandmother’s wedding dress
her curves hug mine wrapped in lace
the v neck exposes our hearts
her’s in the past but mine now emerging
fragile and so full of love
take my hand and walk with me
lift this veil and toss it in the wind
unfettered I will soar wing to wing
with you my dear
Slowly, he pokes his head around the door
Gathering as much courage as he can,
Until enveloped in safety,
He inches closer to the opening
crawling on his belly
nosing his way forward
inch by anxious inch.
until his nose, on his paws
hang over the threshold like a pregnant pause.
He waits
unable,
unwilling
soundlessly whimpering
refusing to do move any further
yet
eagerly
anticipating a way
to solve the mystery
of the basement
Is there a more noble profession than a teacher?
Constructing the minds of a new generation
Architects of lesson plans, Philosophers of education
Janitors of muck and grime, Laborer of politics
Patience of a saint, discipline of a general
Every role is another job and every job is another role.
Yet as busy as they are, the power they wield is next to null.
The world has little thanks for them
Little appreciation for the wars they win before they begin
And they’re expected to do it all with a smile on their face
So here is an ode to the educator, a tradesman of all trades
May their seeds take root, and their trees bear fruit.
It is really all we can hope for.
dark sky mystery
night unravels so slowly
pale dawn lurks behind
light beyond the horizon
just out of grasp mystery