24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Shall we all gather
At the river, the diner,
Or at Granny’s house
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The good times will roll
When two or more are gathered
To eat, drink, pray, love
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My favorite place
Is when I am surrounded
By those I love most
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Cherries in a bowl
My life is often like them
Sweetness and some pits
We huddle, we hope, we play card games on the floor, eat takeout for every meal. Pizza, lo mein, cheeseburgers, and Gummi bears.
We watch each other’s luggage, and sleep in dog piles against the wall. We walk around the same terminal that we already scouted out this morning. We laugh, we crumble, dreams of travel thwarted.
We continue to belong to our time together, despite the walls falling over on us.
the twisted tree is hit by the storm
grandma forgets me
but remembers the young sapling
right outside her home
she checks on it hourly
but walks carelessly to her bed
getting scrapes
she asks me questions
gives me names that she likes
the twisted tree survives the storm
she lavishes love and affection on the survivor
my grandma still does not remember me
the storm in our house rages on
Hi,
I hope you are safe and sound.
Speaking of sound,
this old age
is a payback
for all my nagging at you students.
I can no longer hear anything
but your words
and chaos is still in my memories.
The mighty river flows along
Spray rolling o’er the dam
Babbling its own melodic song
As gently as a lamb
Spray rolling o’er the dam
While kissing each rock and twig
As gently as a lamb
Nestled amid the fig
While kissing each rock and twig
The morning dew refreshes the earth
Nestled amid the fig
Though uncertain of its worth
The morning dew refreshes the earth
Its scent as fresh as it is strong
Though uncertain of its worth
The mighty river flows along
FOMO II
somewhere there is a party
friends are drinking and laughing
somewhere people are together
and I’m not there
maybe it’s better this way
I wouldn’t want to ruin the fun
or put any undue pressure
on an evening with anyone
but I wonder and I worry
if I’ll be there at the right time
to laugh and smoke and intertwine
to socialize and really unwind
I hope they remember me
while they’re celebrating together
I hate being alone, and feeling forgotten
languid and abruptly devouring me whole
We gather together ~
We ‘gather’
in echo chambers,
scorning the company
of the ‘other,’
that dangerous believer
of untruths, of fake news,
of demagogues new & old…
We gather to scorn and mock.
And yet mothers still love
their children, red & blue alike.
And the young still cradle cats
while their elders stroke the fur
of rescue dogs, the feathers of birds.
We are still the children of love.
I wrote all of these poems
without wifi,
without the internet,
with nothing but a single bar of data
on an outdated mobile phone
and a folding keyboard
that wants to do nothing more
than capitalize letters at the
start of lines. The thing
doesn’t even have
a delete key.
Deletions have to be
tediously erased with the backspace key.
Even the bloody dog knows
that the backspace key
can function as a delete key,
but he is pissed off,
and I don’t blame him,
because I have not
walked him nearly enough today.
He is of no help.
The same is true of my intellect,
straining to find words
and form them at this hour.
Reigning monarch of your world—
But, I beg your pardon—
If you’re the only one enjoying it,
It’s not much of a garden.