24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I am like this lemur
A red furred black faced beast
Who’s sensitive to issues
And prefers to feel peace
I hate to be a bother
I lurk with golden eyes
And if you try to trap me
I’m not an ideal prize
I belong in the wild
I need to be free
And I hold my body close
When I’m laying asleep.
Breakfast is my favorite meal of the day
A simple time, you eat what you want as you greet morning ray
A sandwich I crave, a sandwich I love
One that I eat almost every sun come above
Cheese and vegetables of my favorite kinds
Walnuts and hot sauce so hot, it makes my parents lose their minds
It’s questioned, a lot, why I eat this sandwich every morning
Just don’t ask again or someone will be in mourning
If I ever take the yee-
I mean leap
Then you won’t see it comin
I’ll turn my world around
I mean upside down
That is to say the ground
Will be on top of me
Instead of underneath my feet
But that’s only if I ever get
The strength to take the lea- yeet
I’m sorry in advance
For the shock that it’ll be
There’ll be no 9-1-1 call
No ambulance parked in the street
I’ll find the tallest bridge in Tennessee
Make sure I don’t survive
This will not be a cry for help
It’ll be so I can die
I can’t write you a letter
I’m sorry, I just can’t
Writing it would take a depth of
Courage I don’t have
And I should know, I’ve tried
At least a dozen times
“Hey bestie, please don’t hate me.
I couldn’t live this lie.”
Once I even got to almost 50 lines
The problem is, I’ve been Dear Jane-d
That is to say, I know the pain
Reading in a letter
That you won’t see them again
And at the time, I wished them dead
Ironic, now, I can’t deny
But I’d have thought much differently
If ever they had actually died
I can’t Dear Bestie one more time
You can’t learn in a letter
So I told you to your face
You said it wasn’t news to you
You’ve always known that was the case
And then you said it’d shatter you
Your heart hit with a bomb
And then you said I’d go to hell
Guess we believe in different gods
Eternity. The orchestra of an insidious being.
A manifestation born of an insipid creation.
Mortals desperate to match the melody of forever.
Unable to manifest the nature of seeing.
That they could ever grasp a predetermination.
The magnitude of the symphony’s endeavour.
Hour Nineteen 3:45 Dizdain Form
Will you hold my hand as time passes on,
or will you let go and lead me to fall?
Will you remain with me in breaking dawn,
or will you balk and lead me to nightfall?
Will you love above others overall,
or will your attention wander away
distracted by wanton flesh-carnal play?
Will you hold my hand in the years to come,
or will you find reason to break away?
Will I be a placeholder in interim?
Waking up before the sun’s first blush
Opening the sand papery eyes
The puppetry morning routine begins
Looking less drowsy than a zombie
Splashing cold water with a lack of expression
That pale inmate face polishing the addiction
Going about the morning chores
Keeps me acceptably sane
Having lunch with my gang of irritations
I am on with another taxing day
Waiting for it to run its course.
©️ Divya Venkateswaran
Iron wall
Strong and sturdy
I can’t see the top
From down here
Iron wall
Between me and my dreams
It won’t even dent
No matter what I do
Iron wall
I will scale you
Sooner than later
I will be there
Iron wall
On the other side of you
It might not be safe
But it’s what I’m meant to do.
Formulas Followed
Our first dog, Klondike, wore a blue collar.
Our second dog, Xerox, wore a red collar.
Our third dog, Nestle, wore a purple collar.
It’s only took me 36 years to realize
we followed the formula red + blue = purple.
Some years back, our neighbor
called to say our driveway was purple.
I thought someone, knowing my favor
for purple, spilled paint as a practical joke.
We went out, looking for purple
when neighbor came over, laughing,
pointing at our trucks. Paul’s was red,
and that week, I picked up my blue one –
I should have seen that coming.
Better than a purple painted driveway.
When I ran out of purple food coloring
I made more icing by mixing blue and red.
I’m so glad I paid attention in art class
for formulas I could follow.
~ J R Turek Hour 19
Lover of icy winds
winds,
Lover of snow,
Lover of attire
covered with coarse cloth,
Wide boots,
Freezing days,
Cloudy skies,
Dry sunshine
and lots of beauty.
Sliced tomatoes, zucchini, squash, we
in circles, patterns numbered three
red, yellow, green, bake and boil
drizzled with olive oil
olive, garlic, see
finish thee
a treat
Oui!
– Sandra Johnson, 9-3-2023