24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
1
Wagging tail with love
It’s never ever lazy
waiting to catch a foe
Reunion
Old friends gathered together
with smiles and styles
chatting over dinner table
savouring dishes of choice
tempered with fun and frolic
joy overfills the heart
times square revisited
beautiful lives recreated
and lost moments recaptured
Hour 12
@varenyas
13 For Mela
Treehouses created by handsome men
Who rode horseback shirtless through
The rain forest of Belize
A long morning climb up a rocky mount
To jump down an endless waterfall
After three shots of whiskey
We ate armadillo exchanged for cash
On Bob Marley’s birthday as we
Celebrated with a toke and stew
Our adventure held memories for
Decades after we returned and grew
Older and aware of our mortality
My buddy passed this week before
I could say Goodbye and hold dear
A wild adventure for girls only
I am an empath
With fleeting anxieties
Alone gathering
Tranquility
A blue sky
white clouds
as seen through
the open window
Of an old house,
it’s vine draped walls
speaking of another age
instills a peacefulness,
A true thankfulness to be alive,
the likes of which I rarely
get to explore.
It is delicious.
Do you think we’ll
Be able to keep it?
Everyone Wants to Love
Everyone wants to love
very much.
Everyone wants a hug,
reeling from a touch.
You hear what I’m saying?
One thing leads to another,
next time you pass me by
entertain me brother if you chose to bother.
We all want to rule the world,
and one thing leads to another.
Next you will tell me
that there’s a war being waged
so close to our shore.
To brother to brother,
oh, from mother to mother,
love one another now.
Oh, please hear me and how.
Vote with your heart and your head.
End it somehow, before we’re all dead.
Hour thirteen, 9pm
Everyone Wants to Love
(form Acrostic/ Drabble)
Charlie the Mayfly.
v.j.calone
This dog Lumpy, is so damned grumpy
he cannot walk or see, or pee
eyes both milky and bumpy
shirt, it’s holed but starry
yet so warm is he
calm and happy
to simply
just be
still.
– Sandra Johnson, June 25, 2022
Photo credit – Catherine Dickson
EVERY TIME I’VE LEFT
every time I’ve left
I was right to do so
maybe not right in my words
my thoughts or my deeds
maybe torn up, shredded
on expectations and disappointment
maybe savage and ferocious
lashing out in my pain
but I know something now that I didn’t know then
I needed every wrong turn, every misguided step
to find the places where my joy was real
and when I was finally there, in a place where I was happy
I knew I was always going to make the next right move
even when everything else around me was wrong
because that’s all I’d ever done
just like every time I’ve ever left
so that someday, I could arrive
A deep voice of a dead star rumbles:
to change is evil!
She sucks out the energy of other voices.
Are there voices who will forever
Stay in the safety of the fringes of the gathering?
As we have now crossed the half-way point, I have replenished my snacks and water and cold brew – and even though there’s not a prompt calling out to be utilized this hour I feel like I’m at least somewhat human again and honestly that’s the best start to the second half I could have possibly hoped for. And not like any of you asked or anything, but I’m also going to say I’m SOOOOO glad I did a chair swap for this event because my back would usually be KILLING me by now – but I’m actually doing okay. Rajah and I had a random dance party before the start of the previous poem and I’m thinking that might be a good habit moving forward. ANYWAY, I’m searching for a prompt now – let’s see what calls to me…
This is “Houseplant Symphony” from the BlueJay Prompts book I released earlier this year – available on Amazon and my personal website www,sincerelybluejay.com available worldwide at both retailers!
Poem 13:
On Sundays the houseplant symphony
begins in earnest and carries on throughout
the entire afternoon in full force – there is
a certain sort of beauty that comes from a
simulated rainforest in the middle of a desert.
And another very different sort of beauty
that exists only in the strange hours of
noon to five pm on a Sunday in this space
we’ve built for ourselves and each other
and really no one else, although they all
seem to come and go as they please.
This symphony though – the reason we
are even wasting time or breath is wonderful.
Playing the raindrops, rhythmic breath, and
even taking time to let the silence shine as well.
It reminds me that we are all living through something
or living somewhere we do not belong – and yet
we manage to survive. To flourish. And if we are lucky
also to inspire a few more people along the way.
-M. Rene’
SincerelyBlueJay Poetry