(Poem 227 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Dressed to impress,
hair styled just so,
feet in new shoes,
look at them grow.
Climbing on a bus
for the commute,
backpack and lunch
and smiles to boot.
Headed to school,
meet the new class
make new friends
and have a blast.
It’s a great day to
start the new year
of learning and fun
with nothing to fear.
@Home Studio – 227th poem of the year
(Poem 226 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Powdered coconut
and sugar dissolve
on the tongue with
a texture as strange
as it is addictive.
Mexican pink is the
color layered over
a pristine white as
contrasting as a
flower bursting
through the snow.
@Home Studio – 226th poem of the year
(Poem 225 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
I’m afraid my cat
is unraveling
like an old sweater
with a snag.
If I pull too hard
on the loose thread
catching
on my ring
or hangnail,
who knows
how many carefully
knit rows will come
undone
and fall,
gravity removing all
trace of ever having been
a woven thing.
I don’t think he can
be put back together
again
if he falls
from his wall
and I don’t know
how to keep
him balanced
on the ledge
between
this reality
and the next.
@Home Studio – 225th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Kage’s Unraveling photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 224 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/aFvVVN https://gencraft.ai/p/7PA40X https://gencraft.ai/p/FTmjDC
Whether a ji to pin
a perfectly coiled
chignon in place,
or a binyeo to look
powerfully poised,
hair sticks are a
timeless adornment
that are practical,
beautiful, and one
of the few women’s
accessories that
can double as a
weapon if needed.
@Home Studio – 224th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Hair Sticks photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 223 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
If betrayal leaves you in
a shallow grave, you must
unbury yourself and crawl
to the banks of survival.
If cruelty kills your savior,
you must assume her identity
to seek both revenge and
justice for the oppressed.
If your benefactor just so
happens to teach you archery,
you must save the crown
and your dignity with a well-
placed arrow through the
hand of the man whose
cowardice left you for dead.
If your backer’s proposal is
slow in coming, you must let
him know you’re moving in to
make his place your home.
@Home Studio – 223rd poem of the year (After watching the C-drama The Double.)
Lv Hao Ji Ji. The Double. Wu Jinyan, Wang Xingyue, Youku, Huanyu Film, 2 June, 2024.
(Poem 222 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
What is it about 4am
that makes magic drip
onto the page like wax?
The air feels different
when the dogs and sun
still sleep; the dew is
yet to blanket itself
across morning’s back.
There in the stillness of
the pre-dawn quiet,
thoughts have latitude,
and words permit them-
selves both whimsy and
wonder without too much
introspection or gravity.
It is refreshing to be
acquainted with the
other side of night that
does not lay souls down
for fear they must be kept
but celebrates once again
the uprising of the spirit.
@Home Studio – 222nd poem of the year
(Poem 221 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Puberty ushers in such
comrades as Anxiety,
Envy, Embarrassment,
and my favorite, Ennui.
The panic that ensues
when Embarrassment
threatens and Envy
rears her unsettled self,
resurrects Fear and
Disgust, Anger and
Sadness, leading to
complete paralysis.
The only protection
against it all is to feign
Ennui…nothing matters
because too much
enthusiasm might be
the wrong amount, and
no one would dare be
too happy in a room
full of teens trying to
fake unruffled chill.
Rebekah Marshall @Home Studio on 8/19/24 @ 10:17am – 221st poem of the year (After watching Inside Out 2 with my granddaughter in theatre.)
Mann, Kelsey. Inside Out 2. Amy Poehler, Pixar Animation Studios, 14 June 2024.
(Poem 220 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
The antithesis of everything
one can logically consider,
should be nothing at all.
Casanova of Venetia would
argue that such is absurd,
as everything is one with faith.
But nothingness as a concept
of not-being is of value as a
consideration, even if nearly
impossible for us to conceive.
Even Einstein struggled to
believe something so absolute
could exist, since spacetime
renders past and future illusory.
Could it be a state of mind like
Nirvana or wu wei, or even
the permanence of Tao that
cannot be described or named?
Is it the chasm that forms if
we reject God, or the very idea
that such a thing is possible?
Calculate as we might with all
our might, we never reach zero.
@Home Studio – 220th poem of the year (After reading an article on Wikipedia about “Nothing.”)
“Nothing” Wikipedia. Page last edited 25 July, 2024, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nothing.
Runner ups for the Nothing photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 219 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
Is there anything more disappointing
than a full bag of stale corn chips?
The perfectly plump air-filled sack
promises a crisp, crackly, salty snack,
and the satisfying rip that breaks the
seal rewards the hungry with the
enticing aroma of oil-toasted corn.
The perfect chip is chosen for shape
and size, uniformity of potential crunch,
evenly distributed inherent saltiness,
and all it takes is one bite to experience
the soul-crushing softness of flaccidity.
@Home Studio on 8/18/24 @ 10:33pm – 219th poem of the year
Runner ups for the Stale Chips photos to accompany my poem:
(Poem 218 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)
sea salt on the wind
beached driftwood drying
jasmine and sweet cream
reeds suspended in oil
elocute the air with their
effusive particulates
demanding I return to
a bonfire on the beach
wearing a wind breaker
wishing someone would
hold my hand or find me
alluring like the waves
as the sand invades my
socks and the stars
wink at my impermanence.
@Home Studio – 218th poem of the year (Teen beach memories evoked by an oil infuser my bestie gave me as a gift.)
rebekahjmarshall 