24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
I never meant to
hurt you. Drowning in despair,
I let your hand go,
but only for a moment
while I fought to save myself.
If you love me, tell
me, why was it so easy
to give up on me?
Was I not worth saving too?
You know I’d never leave you.
(A somanka is a combination of two tankas written in two different voices that carries a central theme of love. Each tanka is comprised of five lines with a syllable count of 5/7/5/7/7.)
Who Do You Want to Be?
Do you want to be a Forest Ranger,
Or Superman jumping over skyscrapers?
How about a circus clown dressed in periwinkle,
Or a baker specializing in sourdough sweet rolls?
You could pilot a jet through the clouds,
Or become a seamstress who makes masterpieces with needle and thread.
Do you want to stand out in the pouring rain in only a pair of gumboots while singing songs?
Do you march to the beat of a different drummer?
If any of this sounds good to you,
Let a smile spread across you face
And admire your reflection in a storefront window.
For I know, you can be whoever you want to be.
Of Tongues and Praise
Fifty tongues
From fifty states
Tongues and tongues
From every race
Nations, tribes, and tongues
Of every case
The health of these tongues
We seek to raise
That they might, with healthy tongues,
Sing our Redeemer’s praise
i know you see me
your camera eye tries to hide
i find you lacking
voyeuristic schemes
have no power over me
watch me all you want
you’ll see me live life
living it on my own terms
watch me all you want
None So Blind
You see him as a hero
a role model to look up to
but you refuse to see
the mean side he tries to hide.
You know he has a record
plead he deserves a second chance
but you don’t know that he’s been
behind bars many times before.
Truth is the truth,
not what you believe.
You hear her gossip
about a friend, and to look cool,
like you belong, you join in,
criticize the innocent.
You don’t stop her or yourself;
slander slashes your friend,
and soon you’re the subject
being snubbed.
Truth is the truth,
not what you believe.
Listen to fools on the news
to radio jocks spouting crap
and if you follow like sheep
you’re doomed to fall into a pit.
Believe everything you read
and you are in for a rough ride;
trash rags are only good
to line the puppy’s cage.
Truth is the truth,
not what you believe.
Just because she is family
doesn’t mean she can’t lie;
if your gut tells you not
to trust her words, then don’t.
Blood may be thicker than water
but greed and jealousy know
no bounds. Trust the truth,
stay safe, stay true to yourself.
Truth is the truth,
not what you believe.
~ J R Turek
June 26, 2021 Hour 14
I don’t like to go outside
I can see them watching
Not them exactly, who knows their faces,
But the cameras stick out
And I can feel them
Staring.
So I just stay inside
And watch the world pass by
on a grainy screen.
Rain rose.
Rome on ice, and
A full rose bulbs.
Of paddles.
You’ll see,
Day dreaming.
While they turn.
The golden,
Colors.
All,
Day long.
The little robot
Was little more
Than a camera
Affixed by a metal pole
To a bank of cryotubes.
It could not move.
It could not speak.
Its job was simple:
To establish
When it was safe
And activate the release.
The little robot
On its little pole
On its bank of tubes
Had been sitting in this spot
For thirty-two years now.
It watched the new planet.
It saw lush meadows,
Sparkling water.
It detected oxygen.
But it had seen the old Earth.
It was unsafe to activate the release.
A few days, weeks at best.
Make the most of it. Drink
from over ripened mangoes,
from oranges burst open
from the heat. Alight on sticky
rinds. Drink from corpses
decomposing, bloated
in the sun. Dance
across a dead man’s face,
proboscis lapping purge
fluid from a slipped nostril.
Fly away on paper wings.
I’ll love you for always.
artwork fascinates me,I often keep it close
sketchbooks numerous I have filled
colors make me seep in serenity green
as plants around sit in pots and dream
just like this artist dabbing in yellow-
catching the color on paper with his brush
he does not rush,but enjoys the pace
as his mind and spirit complete the race
a shade of green supports the stems
as movement leads to chords of place
flowers in color are now in the heart
in memories cool and far apart-