24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Rough Seas
Born to water,
Raised to lake,
Life claimed by the ocean,
Returned to sand on death.
The blood of a sailor is in my veins,
Love of the water is instilled in my soul.
Where others see fear and emptiness
I see the potential of what could be.
Take me over the waves that call my name.
Let me dive amidst the coral and caustic light.
And for the love of all that is holy and high,
Bring me some Dramamine.
A Reply to blessing Omeiza Ojo’s technology palaver
I have waited for too long
I am now fed up of this beautiful disaster
Of this lifeless companion that doesn’t know how to breath
Summons a one month subscription for a better experience of loneliness
People don’t see how it races with them in time and win
I see how technophiles creates new life in our body so quickly
I am wearing grief as it rips my body apart
Genius gone clueless
Everybody is so judgemental about the new lifeless companion
Follow by our eyes that can’t resist the light
Father pull me close
I see the end is near
On the couch or in the bed
With a little fur baby
Curled up next to me
Sitting around a table with friends
A lady knight in a world of men
Rolling a d20 for “Intrigue” or “Sword”
Annihilating opponents left and right
Cutting wooden boards with dad
Nailing them together
Sanding and staining
Sitting in my living room
Admiring the shelves we built together
At Texas Roadhouse or Olive Garden
Playing trivia games around the table
Eating good food with friends
In a classroom
Surrounded by two year olds
Listening to their babbling stories
Giving hugs and smiles
Softly singing them to sleep
Filling each minute with love
Texting my nieces and nephews
Asking about their days
Getting the “tea” on their lives
Lending a listening ear
Giving advice when needed
In a crowded building
Cosplaying with friends
Taking pictures
And talking “nerd things”
Arms around a friend
Who had a bad day
No words
Just an unspoken show
Of care and love
Game nights with friends and family
Laughing at our shenanigans
In a book of my choosing
Following the lives of characters
I am meeting for the first time
Or revisiting after time away
On stage playing a character
Telling a story
Or behind the scenes
Making sure it all runs smoothly
Under a canopy of trees
Or in an open field of grass and flowers
Standing in the cold winter run off
Water seeping into my shoes
Freezing my toes
Sitting in the quiet of a holy place
Feeling the love of my God and my ancestors
Receiving confirmation and inspiration
On my laptop
Stringing together letters to make words
Words to make stories, poems
My thoughts tumbling forth
Like a rushing river
About the searing murk of night,
Cold begets the hunger of his blade,
The Dollymop may flee from fright’s plight,
Her blood the toll, the Ripper to be paid.
Hi folks!
I procrastinated doing this a bit, but hello! My name is Alex Aimee Kist and I am currently writing from Salem, MA. I am the Managing Editor of Ginger Bug Press and the Development Committee Leader of the Boston Poetry Slam. I am also the founder of Northshore Writers, a group of folks on the MA Northshore that get together once a month to join a creative space, write, and receive feedback. You can find my work in Beyond Queer Words, The Closed Eye Open, Quartz Literary, and the 2021 Poetry Marathon Anthology.
This is my second official poetry marathon and I am so excited to go on this journey with you all. I have found that this exercise really helps me stretch my craft. I can’t wait to get all these poems polished up, but for now let’s get a little chaotic together.
xo Alex
cw: none
The canary started eating paper
as a way to try and cope.
It needs words like it needs water,
and since it could no longer make its own song,
it chose to devour the ones written.
Now, it chokes on them whenever
it is not being hurt
by the humans who promised to protect and cherish it.
Perhaps if it gathers enough words,
its voice will come back.
Or maybe its feathers will regrow,
and it can fly away.
Spun
On the edge of spinning
spiral of a galaxy
Is a system of 8 or 9 planets,
thousands of comets and asteroids,
each with its own unique-
despite the existence of a infinite number of spinning planets-
Spin
Spinning around a hot ball of spinning gasses
Many with their own moons
The third of these spinning planetary orbs is teaming with sentience
All trying to put their own spin
On what we are here spinning for
And I have been to Asia
The Arthartica
The Australia
The Americas
The Africa
The Europe and the Oceania
All on the misty wings
Of my dreams
dragging feet to the bathroom to brush my teeth with warm water
my dad would call it the adversary
but i’m quite certain this one’s on me
late, bittersweet like day old oranges
but i
i am alive