Daily Poetry (Selections)

February 2024

February 1, 2024

my soul finds itself here
after riding the shockwave
from when i blew up my life
a slow motion explosion
fueled by a frustrating mix
of hubris and rage
and a need to gloat
at least a little bit

too big for my britches
and too hungry for justice
an impulsive propulsive choice
now skyward trajectory
bright to the thermosphere
to burn on reentry
the hull aflame
like icarus’s wings

is there a lesson learned
from this latest grand mistake
or mistakes that came before
the lesson is always there
one learned? hardly
but one thing is certain
at least each failure
has been different

February 7, 2024

I don’t want to be brave
I just want to live my life
brave implies a choice
one that I never had
as if I could undo
all that I have done
pack myself into a box
and wait for the storm
to slowly pass over me
then put it all back on
when the coast is clear
as if nothing happened
an impossible dream
conjured up by those
who do not understand
what is happening here
and never will until
it’s too late

February 8, 2024

Decades pass, like all things do
And those that don't are changed
By time’s relentless flowing
You grow older, if you're lucky
You change, ideally for the better
And you cling to the constants
As if they can keep you anchored
A bulwark against the inevitable
But nothing is etched in stone
And even stone wears and ages
You're not the same person
And it’s not the same river
Of flowing lights between
The canyons of buildings
Landmarks crumble and fall
Temples destroyed and rebuilt
Not quite the same as before
But sure, it’s close enough
And maybe even better in ways
When evaluated case by case
So make time to mourn what’s lost
Try and embrace what’s new
And find the balance between them

February 10, 2024

there is peace among the dead
solitude and stillness among the graves
only the distant wail of pipes
playing their mournful funeral songs
penetrates the reflective calm
stones and monuments to the long passed
serve not the dead but the living
ensuring that memories live on beyond
the merely mortal bodies
interred six feet deep beneath my feet
walk gently and tread light
amongst the graves and granite tombs
for you will be among them one day

February 14, 2024

will my love letters be read
nine hundred years from now
will they share the fiery passion
of yearning sisters in convents
all of nine hundred years ago

spilling their desires in ink
one so desperate for her lover
she fears that she may die
praying to her god for life
as she waits in her absence

will my love letters be read
nine hundred years from now
maybe historians and sapphics
will read of my love in future times
but only if I were to write of it

February 19, 2024

I am the rose
   and I am its thorns
   beautiful and fragrant
   yet I sting and I bite
   to protect myself from harm

I am a rosebush
   her roots deep in the soil
   her crown bursting through concrete
   patiently splitting the rock
   so that she may bloom

I am beauty in desolation
   an example of the power of will
   following the sun
   and drawing from hidden depths
   to fuel her growth

I am a survivor
   borne of adverse conditions
   somehow surviving
   somehow maybe even thriving
   in a world not made for her

I extend my power into the world

February 20, 2024

Let me not just contemplate the view
Let me contemplate the window
There are infinities within infinites
A minute contains millennia
If you know how to look at it
Expand the window
Watch dynasties unfold on the page
Bring the view in closer
To a pair of lovers entwined
In rapture and ecstasy
Their bodies rise and fall
Like empires rise and fall
Time moves so slowly
In each others arms
Where they can forget history
Where they can ignore the future
All there is to know is this moment
And to make it last forever

February 21, 2024

I was a panther, briefly
stalking through the jungle
seeking out her prey
My body was long and lithe
my claws were sharp
and my aim was true
And as I leaped upon my prey
and ripped out its throat
I felt rapture in success

I was a house cat, briefly
on my spouse’s bed
resting in the sunlight
My body was small and soft
my claws were restrained
and my peace was real
And as my spouse began
to gently scratch my head
I felt pleasure in their touch

February 29, 2024

two poems about coming home on the subway

there’s that sinking feeling
   an all too familiar dread
when there’s just too many
   people on the platform
so you watch the message
   scroll across the screen
now your fears are confirmed
   as you arrange new plans

so you wait for the train to come in
with all the other anxious commuters
sticking your heads out to stare down
to check for the lights of the next train
when it finally pulls in, there’s no room
so you cling to a pole by the door
hold your bag between your legs
you grit your teeth behind your mask
and feel your feet glued to the floor
caught in a puddle of goo so sticky
you worry it’ll ruin your nice shoes

— Nora Neurosismancer (2024)

This work is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0