24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
About us draped the past
Please understand that we have always
Had the past wrapped around us,
Echoing the moments that we lived…
We wore it proudly because it made us
Into the people that we were,
Folding us like origami into individual selves…
Perhaps it was too heavy for some,
That cloak of memories,
But it still was a part
Of the way that
Humanity dressed.
I can’t help but show my annoyed when she’s proving something
The deception of the face shows itself to me and I want to walk away
I think, ‘talking over someone might as well be yelling’ and she’s doing it right to me
Neither of those, mind, went undisciplined in my childhood home
But who am I to judge the growing up of others, even adults
I’m crying on the inside and clawing out from my brain to fake an easier face and hide my pout
Until I make it, as they say
If I have to be a love
I will love to be a wine
sipped to the throat pipe
drowsy you like a doze
If I have to be a love
I will love to be an angel
coming down to your jell
blessing you with daily meal
If I have to be a love
I will love to be an ocean
where you swim to clean
the dirty that cause a pain
If I have to be a love
I will love to be a bird
tricking you with sound
for you to dance and tend
If I have to be a love
I will love to be a wind
blowing up your mind
till the happy go round
Tied by the hands, two to one
The golden shine that sits between
Hiding the truth or lies to the next morning sun
A life of grey or green
Will the flowers stay in bloom?
Will we glow under the moon?
Will the flowers fall and wilt?
Will the moon turn away in a tilt?
I vow to stay by your side as you stand by mine
I vow to leave your side if you no longer stand fine
I vow to love you unconditionally
I vow to hate you unbelievably
Hold my heart in your hands
I’ll hold yours as this chapter commands
If one breaks, the other shall too
And with that, seal this faith with “I do.”
ring finger extended
ready to accept
princess cut diamond shimmers and echoes the light
the first half, the start, the beginning
this, this is the second half
where she becomes made anew
the unveiling of her face,
the shedding of an old skin
she is being rebirthed
Her eyes twinkle and sparkle
echoing the joy in her heart
the diamond, the ceremony, being reborn in this way
something most women want to experience
but many won’t get to touch
He brings me tea, with just enough ice
After nearly forty years, this is quite nice.
He sprays my feet, then covers my tootsies
After nearly forty years, we still play footsies.
He covers me at night, temperature appropriately set
After nearly forty years, he does this before bed.
He plants me gardens, sunflowers for my pleasure
After nearly forty years, he knows what I treasure.
He lets me cook, scrambling his eggs fluffy and nice
After nearly forty years, I sometimes have to do it twice.
He carries the groceries, we buy them together now
After nearly forty years, I have to teach him how.
He mows the yard, keeps the porch swept
After nearly forty years, I am a woman kept!
He loves me, I still don’t know why or how
After nearly forty years, he still keeps his vow.
He is mine, and I am his
After nearly forty years, this is how it is.
MATHEMATICS OF LIFE
Add your smiles
Subtract your sorrows
Multiply your happiness
Divide your chores
Differentiate between Good and evil
Integrate the goodness in all
Time is precious
Count your blessings
Life is not a graphical function
It’s a combination of rational , irrational and imaginary values
Cherish the area and the volume of surfaces around you
Observe the Fibonacci dance of the trees and the bees
Life is not meant to be running around in circles
Nor is life meant to be stuck in a corner,
Your height and weight are mere numbers
Your beauty is just infinite
Life cannot be given a perfect mathematical formula
Yet we can still factorise it to receive love, happiness and success.
“This is how she found us/ the past draped about us like a cloak”
Selkie Weaning Young (Redux) by Diana Khoi
I crawl out of my skin,
out of a past heavy
on my bones.
And this is how she found me:
wet and blind and filled to
the brim in melancholy.
I miss the little laugh we shared
last summer over coffee.
I miss the words
your eyes whispered to me
I miss how we held hands.
On the rainy days, our slow dance.
And when the nights were stone-cold
your hands’ warmth atone.
On thinking,
the memories aren’t blithe as they were.
The summer only burns through my skin,
my ears have gone deaf over time,
my hands have gone rough,
rains are dull and slippery,
and nights now, bright and blistering.
I stand where I could never go back.
You aren’t cruel, our little memories are.
Two became one
in theory
in pain
in happiness
chores divided
hobbies united
yelling from opposite sides of the house,
“What?”
“I told you so!”
Stop.
Two souls intertwined
I know yours
you know mine.
not love
but trust.