a poem for every day in april (cause i missed out on october)

Instructions

april 1st - haiku small drops of something otherworldly, something we don't, won't understand --- april 2nd - no rhyme scheme rusted metal wasted blood salt on the rocks caking it an ugly white lifeless body squawking seabirds the tides everchanging, new reality. he rests under the sun in the sand the tides, grabbing at his toes he does not know anything, this broken child, that much is true. the beach, now, just hoping to keep just a little of their new visitor hoping to relish this newfound warmth, until the sirens come and take him away and they realize; that he was never theirs to begin with and never theirs to keep that whatever attachments only made breaking them harder the final goodbyes just that much more bitter they've grown to accept this: the pain in departures. --- april 3rd - nature quiet mountains angry birds a steep drop a never-ending abyss echoes still echoing from the start of time to the end of it there is no sign; no one ever existed no one ever flew and no one ever fell we can pretend no body no crime -- but the rocks the trees the crows, a symbol of darker times they've seen and they know but who's to listen but the abyss and it's darkness? who's to care but those who can't speak for it? so many unheard screams so many bodies never found, left unclaimed so many justices left unaccomplished nature is truly a mystery a graveyard of secrets dug out again the stories they know forgotten by history but never truly gone --- april 4th - obsessions/intense feelings dusty light filtered through dustier blinds a dark figure, hunched, moving through the darkness not drawn to the light like moth to a flame but repelled by it wanting the warmth but fearing the burn destined to the everlasting dark he paces back and forth; troubled thinking is dangerous, yes -- he doesn't understand how can one fear something? yet be ever so drawn to it? he does not understand he does not think he can ever understand a mystery until curiosity comes and risks it --- april 5th - rain one dewdrop outlasted this morning's sun (and hopes, too, the morning come) slips down no longer a single drop but two two dewdrops slide down a vertical reality fated to meet at a point in time when in time allows two dewdrops leaving a part of them behind to chase their future forgotten already that they were initially one forgotten already the morning sun only only their hopes and dreams of what is to come two dewdrops simple minded algebraic lines numbers and symbols; they tell a story in ways human words cannot predicted to end in such and fated to end in such and will end in such if only life was the same --- april 6th - elegy [pt 1] death is a process-- people forget that sometimes call it . ideation, this unnatural fascination, but i really think we could all do with a little bit more acceptance and understanding of a topic that should be treated like any and every other [pt 2] there's a thing i've noticed about living too long you've grown used to the perfections you start seeing the cracks they say you die of old age i say we all die of madness; when our time has come and nothing has taken us yet: some things are just too much to bear --- april 7th - memoir/personal experience once upon a time there lived a girl who follwoed a kangaroo into a wild forest in the dead of night to chase her dreams and see the stars humming between the trees a bee weaves its way through the leaves dancing in the sunlit breeze summertime fair winds; warm, bright nights she can imagine the stars tonight clear through the air pollution clear through the outside noise these are the times she wishes she didn't live in the city creaking sneaking through the night chasing after a dream she sees a flashing quick and bright calling for her doubts extinguished she sees it right sneaking down the stairs she sees the beast through the glass, like a dream in disguise eyes darker than the night dewy like the thickest, sweetest honey curiosity deepens it's gaze a flick of it's sunset ears: it beckons her to follow it she slides open the door a whoosh of summer air the smell of the forest drifting in like something eludingly, entrancingly forbidden in part beckoning in part warning too bad she's drunk on bad decisions tonight what's the worst that could happen? it leads me to the heart of the forest more like a backyard to a wild forest girl like me through still-warm stones and dry grasses met underfoot a familiar path turned anew, the sleepy chirp of crickets, the nighttime's birdsong, the forest coming alive a new side to a coin she thought she knew but the forest was not the reason [cont. below ^^]