A Place I Call Home – hour 24
Writing poetry alone
is a place I call home
with springboard to bounce words on.
– Sandra Johnson, 6/27/21
(Reverse Haiku – yeah, I did it!)
Wake Me Up Before You Go
Wake Me Up Before You Go
Heat radiates from your body
I caress the soft curves of your porcelain skin
You make my heart quicken with desire
I’m mesmerized by the fullness of your body
Your aroma exhilarates my senses
My lips caress your curves eagerly
Anticipation of our ecstasy is unbearable
I embrace you just to feel your touch
I promise to never let you go
I drink in your loveliness
I whisper your name softly…
Coffee
24 Colors of the world
Bought the box of twenty-four
Skin tone colors of the world
Crayola colored pencils
Keenly looking forward to
Discovering my true hue
Nice to know I have one
I bid adieu to all of you
Comrades that juggle words
Of many hues and views
Sharing time is a fine gift
Grateful being with you
Before this old girl
Turns around
Once again
Namaste
Dove Chocolates
Dove Chocolates
I hid the bag, knowing it was there
second shelf of the pantry behind
the box of stale crackers no one wants.
But still I left it there, waiting, waiting
for a time when need was greater
than patience.
I knew this day would be blazing
with stress so I rescued the bag
yesterday and put it on my desk.
So far today, which has morphed
into tomorrow, I haven’t opened
the bag.
But time is not playing fair, stress
is building like a skyscraper, so
I deserve one. And besides,
the foil wrapper has inspirations
printed on them that I could write
a poem from. I peel the foil slow
so as not to tear it, pop the square
into my mouth, savor that first
smooth melting.
I flatten the foil and read
Joy is contagious.
Ok, I agree but I am not inspired by it.
I countermine the thought of another, yet
find it open in my hand, dark chocolate
square a nub of deliciousness and read
Find holiday magic in all things.
I sense a theme here, check the bag,
good until December, still 6 months
away, no festive pictures on the bag;
not stale, they are as decadent as
I remember.
Without warning, another
Bring in the holiday together
and here I have to gather willpower, seal
the bag and wonder what holiday together
with whom?
Not as inspirational as I’d hoped, but
an intoxicating, delectable, wanton way
to de-stress. Ok, maybe just one more
if I can unwrap the layers of packing tape
I wound around it, unstick the super glue,
and remove staples without stabbing myself.
On second thought, the bag is already sealed
and it will stay fresh until December.
Yeah, let’s see how long that will last.
~ J R Turek
June 27, 2021 Hour 24
Hour 24…water
i step into the waves
Shoes left behind, socks in my pocket
I walk to the east, into the coming light
my body instantly at home
alive and full of wonder
#24- (s)miles Away
Finally where I wanted to be,
Miles away from the rest of the world,
Always running,
The race never really stops.
But pause, it did,
As if the earth was exhaling and letting go,
Time come to a standstill,
Much like the broken clock.
As we laugh for long hours,
Moving our pawns around the board,
Hiding cards to be triumphant,
A movie playing in the background.
The rest of the world,
Couldn’t really enter into our neverland,
This place we created only for ourselves.
Only for happiness and smiles.
No other place I can name,
That keeps me quite that safe,
No other place like a warm embrace,
Like sitting with my parents grinning wide…
~thryaksha
Hour 24
Home wasn’t super vibing with me but Meraki came up in my writing Pinterest board as an inspiration so I used that to write. Its a bit rough but I have 24 poems (I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss any now to double-check).
Meraki
The place I put my soul
My creativity
My love
I put it into notebooks
Into crafts
Into people
It is here filling space
In my home
In my work
It slips through into others
My soul
My creativity
My love
Hour 22
How could I write something
opposed to a lullaby?
I can’t, that’s why I will leave
my worries to wake me up!
Poem 21 – A Short Ode
O! meat sticks and beer, you instil no fear
But much cheer and it’s clear that to steer
Towards you is to tear up and be reminded
Of the glory of savoury;
O! meat sticks and beer, near to never would
I say no to putting you in my mouth, both
If I’m totally honest, and it makes me wonder
Perhaps with a blunder, if what’s under
Is more important than what’s on top
Oh, and by that, I mean that food’s not
A personality
Ouch. I hurt myself.
Hour 12: Walking through the night
“As I was walking by the street,
At night,
I saw a car zoom past me,
Not knowing who I was,
Not knowing why I was there,
To them, I was just another passing stranger,
They glanced at,
Through the corner of their eye,
While going a 100 mph.,
I stopped, and thought what could have been,
If they had stopped their car for some reason,
Maybe we could have been friends,
Maybe, we could have been more than that,
I thought to myself blushing,
It’s best not to think about it,
I thought,
I shrugged,
And continued walking through the night.