24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The dark beckons menacingly,
Trees intimidate with their size,
The quiet noises of the woods are so loud
I can hear myself breathing heavily, I think I am lost.
I AM AFRAID
But then, I see some light
The moon is visible like a ray of hope
Sensing my hesitation, lighting my way,
I can feel my breath again and I see the trees in a new light
The trees look protective instead
I FEEL HOPEFUL
I wish I knew the name
Of the tree that shaped my youth
With her soft, crumbling bark
And long, strong branches
Leading me up, up, up
Like stairs of an ivory tower
Escaping into her arms
With never any fear for my safety
I knew she loved me
And would never let me fall
It’s never been within myself
That I could find freedom
Tethered to the ground
I ache to find my hands
Grasping for well-worn holds
Hour 1
Tanka
Good morning to you,
Good morning, how do you do,
The sun is shining,
You woke up, it’s a new day,
Be gracious in every way.
We made an undulating landscape on the floor after the hard week
our bedraggled bodies propped on sofa pillows
plates of barely recognized food stuff in varying degrees of consumption
two roaming dogs attempting to lick plates clean
Around us sharp angles of squares and rectangles
mottled with yellowed photographs and meticulously crafted text blocks
that elicited occasional yelps and countless sighs
until our heads drooped but we would not arise
“This is how she found us/ the past draped about us like a cloak”
Journeying Toward Sunrise (after Diana Khoi Nguyen)
Starting first in numb instinct, we knew only to move forward, always move forward
though no footprints came before ours, no stars could be seen through haze and fog,
not even owls’ hoots or trains’ whistles kept us company.
Still, we trailed, fingers and arms out before us — grasping into the pitch darkness
yet oddly grateful when nothing impeded any progress,
relieved when nothing swooped down.
Sunrise was waiting after all.
Even when we could not see each other, we knew sunrise still existed.
So on we plodded, stumbled, skipped when we could, danced in surprise, then returned to our
instinctive gait: clop clop clop, muffled shuffles, silenced footprints sinking deeply into snow.
This is how she found us, warmer from our efforts, finally able to see a destination,
still distanced yet walking together,
stars still in the sky – always above – now revealed
trains and owls breaking the stillness as we now see the trails we’ve been traveling.
Her form in the sound of hushed night, sunrise was waiting to greet us.
Image: Dirk Enwald
shove the babe
who leapt
that nest
that fed
the fire
that boiled
the pot
that scorched
the girl
that squeezed
her heart
which broke
the bearings
that fixed
the home
Facing this challenge, I face my fear
what is it I hold so dear
and why am I afraid of where this road leads?
that I’ll dissolve in the dark and mist?
or that I’m afraid to be seen, afraid to be heard
because my words make no sense and move no one
as they barely move me
but still, I look for the light in the night
and to find my way and what I need to say
to open a rhythm that has not yet been sung
I’ve just begun
I walk in.
Lights in the city are hung from chains
The quiet bound with voices.
We step between the shadowed parks
Blind spots in a panopticon where
Uncaught by luminescent breath
We flee.
There is a bridge across the night
But it is garlanded with stars
To rob us of our twilight eyes.
Glittered reminiscence,
The sound of singing flows below
Unseen.
The rearing land is lined with trees
An all-embracing veil of black.
One lamp remains, the city’s hand,
A toll booth guarding nowhere,
We leave the past behind unpaid
And free.
Weave silvery strings of moonlit inspiration
Into nocturnal tapestries
Drape them over raw thoughts, memories, ideas…
Smoothing the jagged edges of consciousness
Into Poetic form
Or at least attempting…
Pulling illumination from the darkness behind stars
Words of wistful wisdom woven into the fabric of spacetime
Shrouding the true nature of all that is, was, and will ever be
The Truth blindingly beautiful in all its obscurity
Yet still unseen beneath these tapestries we weave
PROMPT #1 – Hour 1
One way in, one way out
The cries of my family echo through dread forests
filled with rough graves
If I step on the road I will have to walk in
One way in, one way out
To leave is unlikely, many never
for those who are in, barricaded and staunch
listening to mortar pound their apartments
reducing to rubble cities of the ancients
In an effort to commit genocide
In an effort to wipe out all culture, all language, all men
Tanks rumble on the road of my family
I am stuck, gatekeeper of souls
As they try to leave I arrest them
weigh them against a single feather
and watch them fail.