24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The lips stretch out
from ear to ear.
Teeth beam out
in picturesque display.
The body vibrates
from head to toe,
internally-tickled.
The audible sound
is no language of man,
yet it’s understood by all
as one total expression
of joy.
The Sound of Spoken Silence
Though
you never said a
single word to me,
your silence spoke to me in volumes.
****A four line poem consists of four lines with a syllabic count of 1/5/5/9.****
I wait below
on this wire of missing you
on the same side of barbed wire.
You love her.
I know very well you do
Look deep down the stem to see.
To love two,
and only be with one.
On the same side of barbed wire,
Missing me.
Love lost was worth it,
Because it let me find you.
My soul finally understood
Why I had to go through
What I did to get here –
My past had to make me strong enough
To fight for our future.
Music blaring while the crowd moves
Bodies gyrating men and women
As the rhythms of the music beats in the brain
This is the heart of the ghetto
Residents relieve their stress through dancesReggae music’s universal appeal
Dance hall’s hard core beats speaks to the masses
It’s political, it’s social, it’s cultural, it’s raw
No longer music for the underprivileged
All sectors of society is moved by the
Pulsating, continuous, effervescent tunes of deejays
That makes women and men do crazy contortions with their bodies
Enjoyment obvious!!Passing by the music beckons to our bodies
Sanity speaks, and we keep moving
My aunt’s house was the heart
Of my whole childhood.
Playdates and birthdays,
Arts and crafts,
Playful, happy, creative.
Most of all, I remember
Warm and cozy holidays spent
With a full house, full family, and
The best casseroles you’ve ever had.
We always had a movie night
After the big feast, whatever
The newest big thing was.
Us kids could hardly sit through dinner.
My heart aches now for
The puppy piles of cousins and siblings,
Tired after the meal, but
Fighting our heavy eyelids so
We didn’t miss the ending.
Now, the heart of my childhood
Is all but shattered, with
All those times a fading memory.
If only we could’ve worked it out,
Before it all crumbled.
That Equinox
I’d just begun to recognize
a new layer
of my inbetween-ness
emerging unsteadily,
an egg too cracked
to put back together.
Back then, I was oozing
out of my shell
and unable to scoop
the contents back inside—
the goop of my past selves
dripped from my hands,
they were forced
to begin again
This wasn’t long ago.
When I first crawled
from my cave
and the allegories
I was taught
about leaving them,
I found life.
On the outside
sat a friendly pack
in a circle
ready and willing
to gather up
my mutating parts
into a bucket
so, they could
hold me
“Past the river, and through the jungle,
There lives a lion,
In its den,
It prowls around at the mouth of its cave,
Circling the air as if it’s trying to catch invisible prey.
It never hunts nor leaves it cave,
But sits around lazily,
Waiting for its mate to bring home the food.
At first glance it may seem menacing,
But the lazy lion,
Will attack nothing but the air in the sky.
As days go on it hides in its cave,
Refusing to test the waters,
The unconcerned Lion,
Does nothing but sit and yawn.”
Light up my heart set
my soul ablaze genuine
and authentic attraction,
The vibration in my ribcage is a swarm of bees,
Stinging sorrow cleansing the shame to give me back the keys.
To my own body, I am no longer a stranger.
This tattoo needle’s ink giving me back my power,
You have no longer seen my body as it now looks.
My body, always a topic of conversation
For everyone who thinks they know better than me.
Another comes along to try to knock me down,
Turn the dial on self esteem all the way left
But to my own body, I am no longer a stranger.
The vibration in my ribcage is a swarm of bees,
My body, always a topic of conversation,
But this time there is no stinging sorrow.
Even with anger buzzing through me, I decide:
My kindness, my trust, is not a weakness.
I forgive those who so clearly need it.