24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I like the idea I had going here but I’m tired and my brain can’t think through long thoughts.
Hour 18 used prompt
It’s odd to feel almost haunted
When I spend time with them
They are still here
Still real
But they said they could be sick
And if they are who knows how long they get
So I feel followed by the shadow
Of possible loss when I’m with them
Maybe it is just me
a lifestyle that robbed me of language
under attack by enemies,
real and imagined
cheated by phantoms
whining and gnashing
Maybe it’s just me
and the alienation isn’t real
when you can’t see it.
He there when existence began reality’s sonata.
Resonant in its authority and importance in a bid to obtain affirming stigmata.
Resounding lives ever fail to perceive the clarity of oblivion.
Oblivious to the purity of the void’s song, sung in hell’s season.
He was the overture of this so called living pièce de résistance”.
Chaos wrought creation and it is in this anarchy he sings his opus.
From his memory
Released, on her Rachnoc feasts,
And our hero does run.
In my own journey away from life,
all I can ask for is a falling apart that is proactive
let my eyelashes blow from my face
like a dandelion, let them fly, let me fly
let me pretend where they land,
I will have more opportunities to grow
let my nose melt into anthills
to make my body home, no, many homes
let maggots bleed from my cheeks,
dripping from dwellings of their own creation
let my hands turn to mouths turn to ash
let my lifeline speak before I combust
let my body be
and be
and be
until it isn’t
until it all falls apart
My lips moistened
your soul,
my words stunned
your thoughts,
you stopped loving me
when I showed you
that you were no longer the sun
of my days and
the moon of my nights.
You stopped loving me when
you stopped being my horizon,
You stopped loving me when
you stopped being a dragon
and became a man.
You stopped loving me when
you stopped being my shadow,
You stopped loving me when
you let my body
and my lips belong to another man.
sighs and closed eyelids,
taste of saltine crackers
between cracked lips.
hold my rib cage together
so my heart can’t escape
my chest.
pavement scratches my knees,
batters them, but it’s just a
misdemeanor.
slapped on the wrists
while walking on Mass Ave,
the rainbow road
marks my belonging.
claps and pats on the back
line the street,
and the feel of smiles
widen mine.
the shame I held fades,
regenerating pride.
Text Prompt
Write a poem that starts and ends with the word running.
Image Prompt
People say happiness is a choice and if you choose to be happy you’ll be happy. There are days when I choose happiness but I still feel sad. So, I have to disagree with happiness being a choice. On the other hand, life is a choice. So, whether I’m happy or not; I choose life.