24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Text Prompt
Write a poem that’s no more than 50 words, but one of those words must be either umbrella, or almond.
Photo by Rhett Wesley on Unsplash
Leading lights – I follow.
I meet her gaze,
with almond shaped eyes,
bright as amber,
dazzling and mysterious.
Beneath the surface
-a forest of secrets.
I could get lost.
Gaze replaces communication
-the language of soul.
A map to my destiny
-long and winding…
Can I communicate in her frequency?
Inexplicable lighting
of a strange fire in the pit of my being
unquenchable
roaring, a bush fire
chasing away rodents of sadness
I have known happiness in my life
I have known ecstasy
But none matches this profound experience-
This joy from above
Under my umbrella 🌂
The hours fall away
Sliding into yesterday
As if rain
Under my umbrella 🌂
The negativity can’t
Protrude my head
Sheltered is my happiness
Under my umbrella 🌂
I see words used with hate
makes me sad as there is
so much more we can create
Here, in this
Observation Mountain
towering above the earth,
that’s where, we
are told,
The Big Eye
watching
over creation sits
documenting good
deeds and ill –
or delegating
to Its zillion
auxiliaries, including
the elements
the four winds,
waiting patiently
for Reckoning
when the book
of records shall
stand in judgment
my favorite city
in all of the world
smells like exhaust
very old buildings
blackened with soot
still charming
giant gold clock
towers high
with four faces
my favorite statue
of horses
nearby on a bridge
i once sat upon
a base of bronze lions
one two three four
i laughed feeding pigeons
loved watching them soar
fell into a river
(shoulda let go of the oar!)
Reports are circulating in, yarns of a tale most obscene,
Of romance pushed to edge of reason, ferociously extreme.
Authorities state of perplexion, of no true reflection,
A nightmarish bond driven on blood lust supreme.
As filters and speculation, devastate the nation,
Major Crimes are vexed and sickened at the scene.
Love driven mad, a pair of souls forming a monstrous band,
A spree of death, flowered with gory mis-en-scene.
Caution is the story, of Dyer-Boliques glory,
And Valkyries staging of theatrical macabre themes.
Woe is their ending, victims’ families lamenting,
A plot in infamy, destined to never be redeemed.
Tiny things
Shirt sleeves
Front to back
How to dip the spoon
And not spread ice cream everywhere.
All these things confused him.
He knew hundreds of subway stops
Train car facts
Bus routes
A brain stuffed With specific trivia
Couldn’t navigate putting on a pair of pants.
It hurts.
Ice cream trips
Seeing more cream running across a hand, dropped on the table, smeared node to ear.
You get anxious
What am I supposed to do to help when modeling and breaking into steps fails.
He’s anxious
Why are the world so filled with eyes?
If the littlest thing is a massive peak
Rising forth on our horizon
How can big things every be done?
Yet one day he wanted huge
Surfing?
That’s massive.
That’s water pounding you all around
Stopping you
Battering you.
Even with help.
I felt daunted.
But he walked from the water victorious.
Head down.
Eyes swollen.
Overwhelmed by sensation.
Looking like mile 25 of a marathon.
Til he realized
That was him!
He did it.
Then smiles beamed.
Revenant spices bring the soup to life
the aroma and red wine do well to pacify a man’s soul
on this dainty almond cruise, upon whom i brandish my knife in the direction of apples staring blankly at me from the white board table
I pierce, chop up and bite.
Forgive –
give up
this hard feeling inside me?
Why?
it owns me
it colors my every thought.
he said forgive me of what?
he didn’t even remember.
Now
I must choose
to forgive again.