Fly away (Hour 18)
A little nap
and time runs away
Can’t hold it back
Can’t call it back
Just watch it fly away
Where am I?
Softened corners.
Warm layers.
Vibrations of a living fuzz creature.
Collected thoughts.
Could it be I know where I am?
Poetry room – Hour 19, Prompt 19
The room is a blur
my thoughts are a-stir
the lizards are monsters
their cages mid-whir.
Coffee, poetry mix
doing lots of cool tricks
words jumping off pages
into canine cages.
The dogs are loose, too
this place is a zoo
my dwarf frogs grow big
like fat little pigs.
My green shamrock tree
stuck in March will it be
till December, you see
I missed holidays three.
My coffee is gone
poems, now strong
not inarticulately
pets now asleep
I write just for me.
– Sandra Johnson, 9-3-2023
Hunting for the emergence
As the rain ran to the ground,
Everyone ran to cover by all means
She stayed in a secluded resort,
far away from my respite.
She was a viable queen raised by a late prince.
But she didn’t license her name to my earpiece.
Here she came –
The expression on her face
To me, wasn’t as cold as ice.
To the heart with guilt, she was pierced.
As a stranger, I’ve only met her once or twice.
I’m sorry to myself.
I miscalculated the timing of her emergence.
Snatched (Poem 18)
Snatched (Poem 18
The raven’s eye looked terrified
It was in shock as the companion flew away
The flying stroke as if conveying to the onlooking bird
What I deserve
I must get
I’ve worked hard to earn it
And if someone tries to take it away from me
I’ll snatch it right away !
In response to image prompt number 18
Hour 11
Realized I probably should’ve been noting when I don’t us the prompt for the hour… oh well
Hour 11
Every seven years I have a new body
All my cells have changed
And yet I feel the same
I wonder how many years it takes
For my soul to change
For my spirit to find new beliefs
To think in new shades
How many years do I wait
COMMUNICATION (hour xv)
There is no other
objective but clarity
No other. None. None
*Inspired by the text prompt
Hour 19–How Can It Be?
A harbor with no ice? Is true!
What fishing boats supposed to do?
And residents with dying fridge
without the cubes we wish to bridge
across the waters of our thirst
our patience true about burst
we make our way and simply pay
we buy bag ice da kine Safeway
Poem for Hour Nineteen (19/24)
My mother is almost certainly a corvid.
If you look at the signs, I am sure it’s in her,
Right down to the genus and species.
See, she’s:
Smart as a tack,
She can solve complex problems without ever skipping a beat,
She’s got a very long memory,
And it goes back,
As far as any eye can see.
She’s cunning,
A survivor through and through,
She wears all black,
And has talent for planning creatively.
She loves to play,
And she thrives in the rain.
Keeps her beloved, tight family,
Close to her home-base tree.
Hour 18 prompt
LET’S APPRECIATE BEAUTIFUL YET DIFFERENT CREATIONS OF GOD
In the hallways of your school,
You may see a child who seems different
She may be the girl who always sits alone
Or the boy who never talks to anyone
Or a child who just cannot stop laughing or crying
They look different from you-
They are a little bit different than you
They are just referred as Children with special needs
They are the ones who are never allowed to play
They are the ones who are never chosen first
They are the ones who are often stopped by a stranger in the street and asked
“What’s wrong with you?”
They are the ones who get told they are not normal and should stop disturbing others
They have parents who love them, but are constantly worried
About how their kids will survive after they grow old
These kids must deal with bullies at school
These kids must bear nasty words of some of their relatives
They go through so much of pain, but they still expect the best from all of us
They are quick to smile and slow to judge
They have no malice or politics to play against each other
You, special children are beautiful beings to teach us something new
Even if the world laughs at you and blind to your talents
You are often misunderstood, underestimated, and ridiculed
One day the world will realise, what they lost when they pushed you aside
BY
SHREYA SURAJ,