#NaPoWriMo day twentyseven redux

 this is how i actually wanted yesterday's poem:

#NaPoWriMo 2024 day twentyseven

i try not to always think of endings.

let the minutes go by one by one by one.

each day has enough of its own troubles.

there is so much still left to do.

the list just keeps getting longer.

there will never be enough time.

there are so many books still to read.

what are we building with all these words?

is there still the possibility of understanding?

there have been too few moments of silence.

i have to remember to sometimes just stop.

try to note each day as a small beginning.

plant a seed and trust it to grow.

there is so much more of the implied threat.

 

we make plans and wait for the perfect moment.

 

we navigate accidents and surprises.

 

i meant everything i promised.

 

the days keep getting shorter.

 

i still hope that heaven is a real place.

 

in my dreams heaven is full of books.

 

we clothe ourselves with words.

 

we keep digging and digging and digging.

 

we build monuments to monuments.

 

no one remembers when it all began.

 

let us apologize for all our mistakes.

 

i promise you: my intentions were good.

#NaPoWriMo 2024 day twentysix

 

#NaPoWriMo 2024 day twentyfive

Bone breaking thick in the midst of the spin and thrust. Clipped wings and the drill sings. Tickled pricking skin punctured and stifled sensation. Thick rubbery thud of meat falling into empty spaces. The sleepy grasping. Foreign object. Disconnected tissue thinned out by needles and need. Pinned against the future. Shaped by necessity. The odd process. So useless. Such a strange thing this dangling appendage wrapped and bandaged. Weighing out the body’s damage.

#NaPoWriMo 2024 day twentyfour

the constant                                   some victories                                count
struggle, or                                    are not victorious,                          the losses
prepare yourself                            nor glorious
 
 
 
when                                             that thing                                        slaves to wonder
it is over                                        we're building:
                                                      fortress, 

                                                      home, idol?
 
 
please,                                           the re-                                             shhh.

sit.                                                 enchantment                                   the end.

    of the world,

    or our bed