Posts for June 9, 2024

Registration photo of l. jōnz for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.


unearthed &discovered 
she had to run away           

her mission
to witness

to see beyond
the veil 

she was born
to recover love           

especially from places

it was hidden
in blood



The windows down and

Springsteen playing

Wet hair from

Jumping in the creek

Ice cream dripping on my shorts

The swings creaking

Green trees and warm water

Summer, oh, summer

You have only just begun

But please grab a seat

And stay awhile


Registration photo of Jess Bee for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.

Present Circumstances

I think I will most likely view
The current version of me
With kind eyes and quiet approval 
Knowing that the external forces
Broke me to a point of no return 
I will remember these days 
With a wistfulness you only learn 
From looking back at the past
But for now I see myself lying in dread
And I remember a book as a kid I read
About a mom who always stayed in bed
Her son had died and the grief was strong
She asked for years why they’d choose him 
But eventually the pain began to loosen
She went out in the world,
Stepped out of the blur
A fictional mother but…
I keep thinking about her
How I also try to wiggle free but fear
The slack is always pulled up ’round here
No time for long conversation 
Or debate 
Take your fire to another place 
And so here I laid
Curated and paid
One day closer to the grave 
Drowning in my sorrow as a
Capitalist slave 



first the fire

second the brush stroke 
third the wheel
fourth the wheelhouse
fifth the engine
sixth a better engine
seventh enough fuel to burn forever 
eighth seven suns sweeping the horizon; shade enough to lay eternal
nineth a stone smaller than my knuckle
tenth a box of never-dying flowers

Registration photo of Shaun Turner for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.

Nursing Myself

Took I-75 South then North. This,
I call my nature walk. Clouds threatened
rain. The trees: like so much broccoli
against a gray colander, steaming
in the humid June Sunday. I come home
to myself more and more every day now–
I nurse myself with linen bandages,
cotton squares: folded-down half moons,
antibiotics and cigarettes. Their itch
soothes my skin
more and more
every day now, too.

Registration photo of Adyson Reisz for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.


Cross the line
No no, this way.
You’re a pawn, you can only move this way.  
Oh, so the pawn wants to be a queen now?
Should’ve thought about that
before they shaved you down to the little piece of wood you are now.
Never again could you be tall like her.  
That’s the move you want to make?
Okay…I won’t stop you.  
Well that you’ve backed yourself into a corner, you’ll just get taken
and I’ll replace you with another, less stupid, pawn.
Stop crying, 
you know I didn’t mean it.
I’m hard on you cause I love you.
I’ll save you this time but be more careful in the future, alright?
You can stop crying now…
I said stop crying.

Registration photo of Courtney Music for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.

From Day One

You stepped out 
Of your gray car
Red curls in the wind 
With my heart in my throat 
I remember clearly 
I needed no kiss 
To seal my fate
I would have taken 
Your hand 
Trusted your lead 
On that very day
If I had waited
Would we still 
Have made it here? 

Registration photo of Sam Arthurs for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.

No Place Like Home

I used to wonder what it might be like to move far away
To leave these hills behind for a city, a beach, anywhere
I think we all dream like that when we’re growing up
Always assuming that things will be better out there 
As I got older I realized that the world is big, and that
There is so much I want to see, but I also realized that
This is the place where I want to be most in the world
Here among ancient mountains and towering old trees
Where my family has been for generations now, on this
Old tract of forested farm land, quiet and slow always 
There really is jsut no place like home, is there?


i got a ceramic pedicure file and a nail brush

my parents didn’t teach me how to cut my toenails or say no to people.
this girl I’m no longer friends with taught me at summer camp.
we were going into seventh grade in the fall
and she left the camp early.
she missed home.
I had a really hard time at camp the whole time and finally, the last day, I had a nice time and made friends.
I didn’t want to go.

Nowadays, I don’t ever have to go home if I don’t want to.
I learned to say no from my therapists and friends, like
when I don’t want to go to a family function, when I don’t want to talk about a certain topic, or
when I don’t want to kiss someone.

My parents didn’t teach me to take care of myself.
they asked me to bow, pray, and ask for blessings at the feet of the Lord and my grandparents
and any other adults they held in high esteem.

Now I can pamper my own feet. (and will!)

Registration photo of Patrick Johnson for the LexPoMo 2024 Writing Challenge.


lay myself
on summer’s cross
drenched in your honey sweat
hands tied in your hair
etch your name
in my skin 
with your teeth
feel the center of me
an array of 
gold and red and yellow
my lungs burn with 
lust that only Eden
pure and true
that it made God jealous