Hunger pangs of youth

Clean pots
Sparkling cutlery
The sink has got no spots
Chopping boards but no celery

Do you have a job for me?
Hunger won’t let me be
I could kill to have a nice meal
But my conscience won’t sit still

Fourty-one theives and their leader
We’d cry open sesame
But if you’d share dear Alibaba
I’ll round them up and be your homey

Started a YouTube channel
Wrote blogs
Escaped my introvert shell
And made vlogs
But this poor soul just can’t seem
To do it the way the world deems fit

I’m everything but a kid
Billing Papa’s been forbidden
Since I got my wisdom tooth
Eversince I’ve felt acid
Scraping my gastric wall but it’s nothing..
Just hunger pangs of youth

The Girl Who Runs the Wild – Hour 3, Prompt 3

She’s a brave, vibrant girl

with golden, bouncy curls

bears and foxes walk

while she skips and talks.

 

Not just talk, she sings

a strange tune that rings

other animals follow

into parks and woody hollows.

 

Why they heed her sweet voice

yet Ignore prey and noise

is a mystery to all

and they wonder in awe.

 

These animals, you’ll hear

raid the camps nearby there

food in tents and backpacks

they share with her snacks.

 

In full moon, especially

it’s really a sight to see

animal and human alike

frolic and hop like tikes.

 

And at night, if you please

they all slumber ‘neath trees

with the girl in between

brewing more of her dreams.

 

– Sandra Johnson, 9/2/23

 

 

 

 

 

 

5. Creepy

It was in the sink.

A tiny black cricket.

Just a baby, really.

But,

I

hate

crickets.

So, I got a napkin.

And folded it around him.

To take him outside.

But,

he

hates

outside.

So, into the air he flew.

Not on the floor.

Not in the sink.

Nowhere

to

be

found.

And now, I sit here typing

Itching, twitching,

Wondering if

he

went

down

my shirt.

Hour 5 “Learning How To Be Ashamed…”

Hour 5

9/2/2023

 

“Learning How To Be Ashamed…”

 

Shame isn’t a naturally happening trait.  No one is born with it It takes learning and practice and living and …well, I guess it’s a gift that keeps on giving – ya know?

 

I remember being taught I was “poor”.

Yeah, really.  I got an “A” in Poor.

 

Just some of the lessons:

Catholic school –

the parish covered my tuition,

but not the books

nor a lunch

nor the required uniform(s)

(and I grew too – sigh),

and the “lessons” were ALWAYS in public,

and always discussed – aloud.

 

My then stepdad was union…

he was out for months and months on strikes –

you COULD buy butter by the stick, single eggs,

some staples by the ounce, was mom and pop stores (single room) even a Grocer (BIG room and Shelves of couldn’t haves –

there was even credit IF you were deemed “Worthy”

(and that capital was meant BECAUSE it had a cost) –

some were NEVER worthy; I was deemed a thief,

though I didn’t EVER take a thing, but I was POOR –

they said …so guilty.

 

Mom was always a black sheep of the family –

and dads came and went…

tenements and so many broken dreams followed us.

During one strike they gave away my dog –

to the mayor no less

and HE took it too.

 

I learned how to read and sight memorize

a textbook – in a day

’cause they didn’t give books on credit

and dollars took months – when you could.

Ever hear, “What’s that trash doing in MY house?”

as you studied from a book you couldn’t buy

or even borrow ’cause it is needed EVERY day…

yeah, shame is learned…

 

And when you’re ‘tween dads and “uncles” –

you walk the miles to an aunt’s house,

to ask (mom said) for what could be spared.

And the meanness …yeah, shame takes practice –

and ya get to stand in the kitchen, while they eat

in the dining room… and you HEAR what gets said,

ya hear and shrink and shrink more each time.

 

You CAN forgive, but never forget…

Yeah, ya learn.

 

You never really escape,

but you “deal”

’til ya die.

 

Chris

(C) Chris Twyford 9/2/2023

 

 

 

If You Water It, It Will Grow (Hour 4)

I never legitimately considered forever

Until I met you

But the longer we were together

The harder it seemed to stay together

Is forever just a lifetime of casually sharing moments together?

I think forever should be the only way you envision your life with someone

Every moment filled with love and compassion

Even in the heaviest rainfall

You can dance

And be cleansed

With a smile on your face

Angels show themselves the most

In the snow

 

It’s not the two rings that bind a couple together forever

It’s the love

And the passion

You never forget to water

Because you never want it to die

But we’ve never been good about watering anything

Unless it was absolutely necessary

Or until it was far too late

 

I never wanted a forever

But I also never wanted a love that challenged me

To actually feel loved

Or seen

 

Outside

Cicadas scream and fuck and die
for weeks at the end of summer
in the air so thick the sky is just a suggestion
and vines choke the trees as if it’s the South
The soft breeze rustles leaves
as deep a green as they’ll be all year
and the flies take refuge inside

The world is beautiful
and everyday I pray for rain.

24 Hour Poetry Marathon Hour 5: A Tribute to Shel Silverstein “Don’t Bother”

A game so unworthy

keeping up with the Jones’

creating a false image

leading to a throw of stones

 

I do need the competition

after all, it’s hard enough

winning little battles

and struggling through the rough

 

Pulling with calloused hands

in a silly tug ‘o war

creating the grass stains

and pain that I abhor

 

My lust for wealth has withered

I want the simple life

three meals a day, that’s all

avoiding hours of strife

 

understanding and tolerance

putting judgment to a halt

taking a deep breath

no worries for who’s at fault

 

But still, a better world we must strive

listening instead of boasting

the modest application of love

the mantra well worth toasting

 

 

12 PM – 10 Years

Dogs don’t know that they only have ten years,

they go into every situation with little awareness.

Live like they never die,

I’m learning this life is restless.

 

I struggle for the loss of time,

always wishing for more.

She doesn’t know that we are one fifth the way there.

 

I held her in my palm and now she takes up both arms.

I dread when they will be empty.

I try not to think about it.

But I do.