Hour2
I’ll turn my tears into poems
and my kisses into frogs if necessary!
But what will you do with your expectations?
Will you bury them or will you invoke them?
Hour 21 – Running
Running
for cover,
into the ground,
around in circles,
running a temp, a foul,
a tab, hot and cold,
on empty, wild,
out the clock
Running
A,B,C’s.
And when I’m near you the music starts,
Apathy fades away as the notes swell.
Alluring symphonies play in my heart.
All my face painted with blush.
Beautiful memories they were.
Bloomed over a short time.
Beckoned the way to spring.
But…
Could it be time that was jealous of us.
Constellations I guess.
Conflicts of the heaven.
Caused us to split.
COUGH COUGH – #21
Running my nose is running
My eyes leak and sting
My teeth harbour ulcers
I cough when I breathe in
Shivers track their way down my back
Sweat contradicts my skin’s desires
I’ve swollen lips
My tongue refuses to identify
My nostrils flare red
Running my nose is still running
Racing for Victory !
Running towards desires
The Teens chase demanding situations
Each lesson teaches new ideas
Despite the fact that failures some time frustrates
If he bet his weaknesses
And overview himself, to reinforce his purpose
There’s no unique principle to win
If he accepts as true with himself without doubts
Without any doubts, Dedication chaos
Running exhibits, racing victory to run !
Prompt 21
Hour-21
Butterfly Kites
Butterfly Kites
Soaring through the air, streaks
of black and yellow meet
the clouds. Little laughs sing
on the breeze, fingers wrapped
in white string, not letting
their joy fly away.
Hour 5
abandoned haveli
the glint of a silver anklet
from the last room
Ghazal with the night as climate change.
Ghazal with the night as climate change.
I open the remains of the night
And pour them into dark vastness, the night.
Everything I seem to love is growing into cracks,
My brother is the first to see, body of darkness —night
My brother is everything bent the wrong way—C
Every where the pain forgets to nest it ruin—night
My brother is a body of liquids —sea
Every where what drowns returns to life —night.
I sit beneath what used to be a tree,
An inferno of beautiful things in my mouth; call it night
I spit all the darkness, all the silence into all the wrong places,
The furrow on my accent is louder than my voice, I bury the night
Everything that covers a prayer and does it well,
Can be tagged beautiful in Arabic and called night
My mother would mistake my brother’s name
For sukko, in gbagyi it’s the only way to say night
My uncle nurtures an oak tree, my sister wants
A beach house so we take down the tree: night?
We put pillars everywhere that could home a tree
The beach house stands erect in the absence of trees—night
I gather my silence every time gasses erupt
Like little prayers in the sanctuary of God: night.
2023 Poem Six
I Feel Like There’s a Poem In Singing ‘Stick Season’ as I Drive Across The Colorado River While Lake Travis is at 40% Capacity On The Coolest Summer of the Rest of Our Lives While Realizing I Likely Won’t See Another Season of the Sticks Again
but I can’t quite get it out.
Hour 15 – Narcissist at the altar
Standing tall at the alter smile pasted on, eyes misty groomed and polished attending all social niceties Mind chatter buffered incapable of feeling love giving love despite effort I am defective Promises made and partially intended trying to avoid harm but we will be upended because I am defective My backdoors are found in others who fawn and dote and of course there's mother because I am defective