24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Running
Huffing and puffing
Hardly stopping
Not realising the mind and body needs rest
Take a breath once in a while
Soften the pace maybe
Opt for a sprint
Or just walk a while
Instead of
Only running
In response to text pr
ompt number 21
Alien
Worlds collide
Unknown skies beckon
Adventure calls, hearts soar
Exploration
Exotic
Landscape strange
Colors beyond dreams
Creatures with eyes of wonder
Awe-inspiring
Distant
Realms of light
Mysteries to unveil
Infinite possibilities
Journey’s beginning
Infinite
Universe vast
Infinite dimensions
Endless beauty, boundless grace
Another world
©️ Divya Venkateswaran
John Steinbeck
once wrote a letter to
Marilyn Monroe
A humorous missive
Underwood pica
wishing her autograph
on behalf of his teen
nephew-in-law
her lovestruck admirer
That one of the greatest
American writers
sent a humorous note to
America’s most famous
sex symbol
on behalf of smitten teen
Somewhere maybe they
now type Tweets on
an Underwood portable
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2022
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd
My elementary school was tore down not long after I went to middle school. The magnolia tree that I practically lived in back then is also gone. My neighbors disappeared and then their house was tore down too. These structures had very much life left to live. Why do things get wiped away and forgotten? The mandala effect is another similar feeling. You ever get a feeling as if you’re connected to something else, something bigger. It’s unexplainable and frustrating. It’s like my heart knows that something isn’t right about it all. There’s gotta be someone out there that understands. It’s like my past has been completely erased. It makes me feel insanely alone. It’s also a feeling of uncertainty, like I have no idea why this has happened but it’s definitely to cover up something else. If I knew the truth it would probably make me sick. Who knows?
The healing
feels more like bleeding.
And now I’m kneeling before
An ill mind.
But go easy on yourself kid
the world will not burn
if you were to reach out and touch it;
the ice would not melt,
the sun would still rise.
the stars would still brim with joy
and the moon
would still listen to you.
Be patient with yourself
Look at yourself with love
it’ll all be okay.
all okay.
Sometimes I wonder
If you see realized
The goal and artistry
When one tiny scientist
Takes humanoid
To space on a bet or three
What size is the planet?
Untitled
Sometimes that hour drive between us feels insurmountable. Like
COVID moved us states apart before I did that. You’re stuck in the stifling
heat of the kitchen sacrificing your body for a
year’s worth of pay and then some in a single summer. I miss your
laugh and ocean side walks and wanting to hold your hand.
Ever wonder what we could have been? Could have felt? I’ll keep
recommending Tucker & Dale vs Evil to pretend you’re near.
Dear gods [substitutes for brain],
You gave us a thought where
We’re both here and there in
The same instances. Existence.
A theory found with the entire
Science. Milky Way to infinity.
I’m black means there’s as much
Possibilities of my existence as
A white lily as there are thorn
On the face of the earth—mother.
My father is dead means
The dead are a planted war song;
Hovering the night sky for the perfect
Pitch to fall unto. The universe
Says they’re all the same. My father
And I . coral hit on the surface of
the mediterranean.
I believe in the existence of time
Traveling, I’m merely seeking a
Sign to call another existence
my own.
Give my father life for no other
Reason that he still breathes in
My bones.
That death is an exit wound into
A parallel universe where all my
People are my own, all their
Thick skin with smoke—stardust—
All the stones on a tomb reverse back
Into ashes. If my world and the parallel
Are same, eject my existence from
The branch of wormholes that
Holds unto memory—give me a new
Name, give me somewhere else to call
Home. The parallel means I’m in a
Linear state to hold breath,
Body of languages and none to
Call my own . The parallel means
I’m shot by a police for not being in
The right universe. The parallel
Means there’s a gathering of people
In a wedding that is yet to be my own.
The parallel means a woman is nursing me
In the belly of a woman that just conceived me.
The parallel means my father is not yet in front
Of the bullet that would wipe him clean.
The parallel means I’m waking in all the
Places I cannot yet call home .
The parallel means there’s a place
My father would be late to attend his death
And is still nursing his bullet wound,
The parallel means that is where I strike first.
Best things in the world are free
And I’m glad one of them forms the first thing I do after waking up
Is it my morning adulation?
Nope
It’s drinking two glasses of water
That sets everything right
And as they say well begun is half done
This is how I ensure the next few hours go by smoothly
In response to text prompt number 20
A world unlike this one
would be so much fun
i‘d name it Your Choice
and we’d all have a voice.
Money, no problem
rich or poor, all pocket none
instead of currency, we
will deem everything free.
No hunger, or thirst
food provided, no hurts
massive gardens, everywhere
and everyone shares.
Crime, bullies, none here
kindness, tolerance aware
we all smile and care
hugs always be there.
Politics, they’ll be none
no parties, but one
to be peaceful and kind
clean the air and the mind.
So soon, we will run
the next galaxy, we come
blasts a rocket of fun
to a world unlike this one.
– Sandra Johnson, 9-3-2023