24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
It is wildfire smoke season again
and with it comes an intermittent
unsettling stillness
not a calmness
not a tranquility
not a peacefulness
but a disquietude
that leads the living
to hold their collective breath
and quietly wait
for that breeze of hope
to soothe one’s skin
to cool one’s lungs
to silence one’s fear
four blank walls, a white so void of color,
they seem to blend into a cube.
an inkling of thought
reds, blues, and yellows burst to life
first abstract, then solid.
and from the walls, the colors drip.
seeping into every floorboard,
forever stained
Coffee at Sunrise HOUR 2: 7am
The majestic wonder – sky fire
is beginning to peak throug
hthe window. My guests are
missing the beauty –
but if I’m being honest they
see it more often than I do
these days. I’ll just remind
myself that I signed up for
this – the coffee is hot and
my ideas really are coming
strong, I just have to
write about what really matters:
And today that’s the newest
story of the Hummingbird Lounge.
The place where we gather to
revel and weep, to create and
inspire, to listen and be heard.
-M. Rene’
I guess I should probably explain what one of my goals is for today aside from completely finishing the full marathon – I want my poems to serve as the skeleton of a chap book or poetry collection titled the Hummingbird Lounge which is also the name of my Substack Newsletter. Today is National Humminbird Day in the US and I feel like this is something I can lean into and enjoy.
In that moment I wondered
if shadow made a sound
Then I turned to the mirror
…Hello….
The blank space invites.
I imagine what could be.
Artist, creator.
Second Chance
I am unbound, at last,
freedom found in tying
my lifeline to another,
a worthy partner in crime,
laughing into the night
hand in hand.
We wink at one another,
simpatico,
wondering at the lost
and broken strewn along
our path, wandering
the no longer lonely road,
side by side.
Past partners are shed
snake skins, retaining
their fearsome forms,
but hollow within,
all venom spent
against past selves, and we heal,
bit by bit.
Like an ant scurrying, gathering dinner for the nest
Like a bee flying, finding sweet nectar for the hive
Like a bird soaring, enjoying views
Liking life.
Why am I here?
I am my siblings nightmare.
I am going to be beautiful.
but I’ll not be beautiful
for my eyes are largely in despair.
I’ll be the next big lawyer.
though now I work my hands and stop my mouth,
I shall prove my hands clean with my mouth.
even the water in me shall not bury my fire.
I am doing just fine.
you should believe ’cause I smile.
though my joy has walked the future’s mile,
my tomorrow’s actions are mine.”