Hour 20 – Outside

I wrote about walking during the day, as it now noon here.

Outside

It’s an oven outside
The air mostly just hot, still,
what you might expect
at noon near the summer
solstice on a desert island.
Onions are frying in ghee
for someone’s lunch,
making my mouth water.
Oleander, nature’s poison,
I have never understood why
they are ubiquitous landscaping
for family gardens.

Shade was not to be found,
I wanted to sit and observe nature.
I kept walking and went to school
to pick up a letter of recommendation
our departing principal had readied for me.
I sat outside, enjoying some welcome
shade–the first I had seen.
I read the letter, along with a lot of
Denise’s there was also one Angela tucked in,
a stray from a previous letter, cut and pasted.
I returned it to the secretary. She’ll get it fixed.

The birds seemed to be enjoying the shade
of the jasmine tree and delighting in the promise
of the fruit-laden palms.

Walking at Night

Hr. 8 Prompt 20

gently swaying in and out of the trees
fireflies fluttering all about
the moon up above glowing so peacefully
this is why I love walking at night

so relaxing and freeing
clearing the mind
calming the soul
the stars up above sparkling so beautifully
this is what I love about walking at night

City night

‘…I go out walkin’ after midnight’
searching for you…’

– Patsy Cline

The darkness holds no special or
tangential fear for me
though it probably should
for there is huge difference
between the woodlands
I knew growing up and
decidedly urban environment
I live in now

Unrest last year propelled me
into our neighborhood
watch mobilization
observe, don’t engage, report
not heeding that advice we
mostly skipped non-engagement
gently offering pushback to
strangers

Looking back one thing I can say
is that many of us found or
rediscovered affinity for
our city during deepest night
sights, sounds –
same, not the same
teeming with life beyond our
patrols

Bonds if not friendships were
forged in those few weeks
of nocturnal hustle and bustle
we came, we saw, we engaged
we found we liked it
the rhythm, the aura –
neighborhood, nocturnal, alive
wide asleep

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd

Love Beyond Limit (Hour 18, An ABC Prompted Poem)

 

Bouncing throughout space and time,

Crashing from one life into another,

Desperately seeking his soul mate among

Every new crowd he encounters.

“He is coming, and I am here.”

 

(An ABC poem is composed of five lines, where the first letter of each of the first four lines follows alphabetical order. You can start with any letter, it doesn’t have to begin with “A”. The fifth and final line can begin with any letter you choose. The inspiration for this poem was to take the last line of a famous book — in this case, it was from Audrey Niffenegger’s “The Time Traveler’s Wife” — and use it as either the first or last line of a new poem.)

Hour 19: Realisation

I’ve been running this far,
I should not give up,
I’ve been running this far,
I am asking myself,
What’s for?

An over-thinker yet ambitious
A woman who wants to be independent
Yet insecure

It’s normal,
It’s normal,
You don’t have to be okay everyday
Just live your life,
Achieve your goal,

Yes, I have some goals,
I know the reason why I am alive,
To serve my Creator,
To spread love,

Now I am not at the place I’ve been dreaming
I am on the way to it, I am in transit,
To prepare myself,
For other challenges and  step of my life,

I am an idealistic
I am a reble
I love to travel
I am thirst of more
I am eager to explore
When the time is right, when the time is right

Night of a Deadly Howl

It was written that night would grow teeth
unfriendly to mortals and suck their blood.
What would be left the prophet calls dust.
I read: when it touches the ground, it’d blend with it.
What is memory if not a symphony of circumspect?
I cut the page of the scripture where it was written,
and fisted it in my left palm for reminder sake.
Tobi said he did so. But he didn’t survive his last walk.
Nights are dangerous these days than den of lions.
I’ve lost more than a friend to the night I can’t query.
Is it the kind of night you want me to walk?
Needless to write about sightless shrapnel
that hit Tomi on a broad daylight.
Imagine what the night here holds for a bird
(not owl) walking the night of shades like ghost.

I Now Come From …

I come from the era of sex and drugs
And of rock and roll
music festivals, cheesecloth and no shoes
daisy chains and the sweet-smelling haze of weed

I come from money old and new
I come from bitter and sweet
Of loathing and resentment
Must try harder

I come from simple pleasures
Sunsets and raindrops
Walking barefoot on a deserted beach
Of toes wriggled in wet sand

I now come from stories and poems

Poem 14 – Your Unseen Tomorrow

What world have we left for you, sweet child of mine?
Devastated old growth stands, fragmented animal habitat
Rising oceans, and melting permafrost;
Is your precocious nature going to help humanity
Through untold extinctions? I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,
And I’m sorry those who could do the most didn’t care –
I knew it was a problem when real estate prospectors
Were buying up future waterfront property;
They never doubted the inevitable, just wanted to deny it
Because shaking the status quo is bad for business
Already had budget lines for environmental infractions
It was never too late, it was always worth starting
Paralysed as we were in our conduct, sweet child of mine
We sold you short and I’m sorry… do you remember
Atlantic bluefin tuna? Do you know Pacific salmons?
Or have we made enough hatcheries to further dillute
Genetic pools more resilient than politicians understood?
It pains me to know we had the answers
But we decided to let your generation clean up the mess
Having to learn the same lessons over and over again

Night Shift – hour 20

After dark, I stroll

Stretching boneless mountains roll

under deflated clouds and pallid stars

I teetered, whirled far

when a speeding car

whizzed by me, light trailing

the last blues of dusk fading

spirits whisper beside me

tickle blindingly

just a branch of spruce

then I trip on its roots

and fall, breaking the silence

onto a lumpy coffin, I heard violence

muffled screaming

a headstone partly blocking

eyes twisted, fascinating

astounded, half-rotted

the sight left me winded

deceived, instead

I rolled off the edging

of my ruffled bedding

the night become morning

but muddy shoes drying

by my blistered dirty feet.

 

– Sandra Johnson, 6/27/21

 

Late Night Thoughts (Hour 20)

Late Night Thoughts -Tanka Poem

By: LuvMiFreely

(Hour 20)

The moon welcomes me

My black hoodie zipped uptight

Night breeze blows freely

Destination is unknown 

Going where my soul leads me