Hour 21 (2022) Shelter From the Rain
So
much
of our lives
can be pictured
from under an umbrella
almond in colour
and shielding
from the
rain.
Poem 14: Dracarys
Three dragons did Daenerys birth.
One green one cream, one black.
The eggs, long turned to stone,
To life, by magic brought back.
To conquer the world, Dany wished,
And freed the slaves to start.
But, alas, she razed King’s Landing,
So her lover knifed her heart.
Hour 21 – Self – Expression – Image Prompt
Self – Expression
We are different people
Me, my self, and I
Each face each different problem
With different faces on display
Seen with separate visions,
Some are more fragile than others
And while I am on display
We keep the walls between myself
And me, hiding how we feel
Shattering the shells if we aren’t careful
We try to keep in mind
I, myself, and me are not the only shells
There’s you and him, and she
Different shades and different sizes
A world apart but for the shells which hide us
Gumdrop Acapella (2022 Poem 21)
gumdrops fall, like rain
bouncing off my umbrella
singing acapella
cotton candy threads fly by
almonds glide and hop
will they never stop
red and black liquorice strands
dance around the square
like Rogers and Astaire
that sure was some dream
think i better stay away
from sriracha and Bublé
(Prompt: Write a poem that’s no more than 50 words, but one of those words must be either umbrella, or almond.)
Gotham
New York City
Aren’t you just the most glamorous thing?
Decked out in towering skyscrapers?
Lapped at the edges by water?
Every inch is something:
Buildings, people, specks of green respite.
You sleep.
Only in certain areas
Times Square.
Awful, just awful.
The signs illuminate a path.
But the core is dead quiet.
4 am and a few tourists get a Starbucks
2 other folk get a slice.
Mostly just silence, even a weekday at 6am.
But you got them all fooled.
Do they know you stink?
Rows of streets waiting for trash collection.
That rotting putrid perfume you have in July.
You broil them too.
After sounding them down 2 it 3 flights of stairs
Teetering and wobbling with oversized luggage
Praying for safe passage or help (keep praying!)
Lugging the stroller
Then you just blast them
With an August furnace to melt their epidermis away.
The real lucky folk get an un air conditioned car.
Your people aren’t rude, necessarily.
Just killing themselves to pay your bills
They got no time for chit chat with a 4000 rent
They don’t want your new album
Your pamphlet
They don’t want anything you got that can’t help then make a buck.
New York your grimey
Your homeless and broke
Litter subways and pile up in neighborhoods
But they write songs about you.
Old songs.
Were you better than?
If I had to write you a song
It would be a blues number
Blues for sure.
Poem 13: Beware the chihuahua
Though I may look meek and small,
I am, in fact, the fiercest of them all.
Since the gene that makes me tiny,
Also makes me hostile and whiny.
“The Swimming Hole” POEM 9
The swimming hole
is a pebbled river bank
with a solid bend
mountain water run off cold!
Goose fleshed skin when touched by its caress
a roiling rapid in & out
with 300 feet of calm relief
Jumping out long enough
to let hot sun warm my powdery skin,
then back in again.
Smooth rocks pressing hard
into tender feet.
Canon balls and sit dives from a tree.
A toddlers laughter on the edge of the water
as a clutch of butterflies swirl and mate
in the distance a dog plays with his new found reflection
i can see my wife
sprouting freckles from her space far from the shade
reminding herself she knows how to smile
so i enjoyed river wanders through the eyes of a child
I Remember Her Name–Hour 21
We were 16
pattering across the long high bridge
over the Aare River
in Berne
It rained and I dared
to offer Diane from Illinois half of my umbrella
Bumbershoot we called it
don’t know why
we’d heard that somewhere
and it was a romantic notion and
a funny word for two teenagers
estimating the distance
between them
the distance even greater all these years hence
I no longer use the word bumbershoot
Minor League Baseball
Minor League Baseball
Baseball is a kid’s game.
Ferry Hawks vs. Blue Crabs.
Laughed hysterically
under our broken umbrella
during long rain delay,
Ballpark with view of the Manhattan skyline.
Herds of children chased balls through the stands.
Uninhibited grown-ups danced to bad disco.
Silly fans sang horribly.
Goofy bat race guys spun around, fell down.
Awkward Kiss Cams.
Pizza won a race because
another food got tackled by the batboy,
who danced like a very white
Napoleon Dynamite between innings.
Kids must have invented baseball.
Paradise / prompt 19/ 3am
The grass is greener! They didn’t lie,
A greener green
I have never seen
All laid out right in front of me
My feet are yearning to be free
So plush my toes can smell the earth
Beneath every step I take
I see the trees with leaves a plenty
Hovering over me
A canopy of large proportions
With shade for all to rest below
A greener green
I have never known.
The trees bare fruit
All different kinds
But there is one we’ve been denied
But I don’t mind
Because I yearn
To please our father and keep His word.
A greener green
I have never seen
The garden of our first creation
A paradise I have never known
One day we will return
When we go back home.
~Rebeli