Posts for June 25, 2025 (page 3)

Registration photo of Sophie Watson for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

To Touch My Own Heart

When I sleep I bury my fists
under the ledge of my ribs.
One day I will be so empty
I will be able to reach far enough
up into myself to grasp my heart.

When I hold it, feel its slow 
contractions, will I finally find
myself? Will I tighten my grip?
Or will I cradle it gently, a dove
in my palm, a precious thing?

And if it is so truly precious, 
how will I fight the urge to rip it out,
to dissect it, to study it in the light, 
silenced and stilled and ruined?
How, when I know I am so brutal?


Registration photo of Gwyneth Stewart for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Dream Before Falling Asleep

In that murky time between awake
and asleep, when rational mind
lets go but subconscious does not
yet take over, I find myself floating

on memories. First best friend,
the fake pond the park service 
poured behind our houses, skating
into the early northern darkness. 

Or my first days living in a foreign
language, when the French I thought 
I knew deserted me, left me wordless
and humble, a long way from home. 


Registration photo of Lori Taylor for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Wanted: Life’s Largest Labelmaker

Dad’s garage began with basic tools
     hammer, wrenches in a red box
The collection grew
     camping gear, Christmas decor, bicycles
every nook and cranny packed
     like starved sardines

Dad’s skill for finding the elusive
tidbit gained him notoriety in our family
Only he could find anything in that 
     beautiful mess of a system
     for years

All Dad’s things 
     and some of ours
are still there
     lurking in shadows yet
lost to him

The pile we used to tease him about
     All those countless items have
taken on new meaning for
     nameless 

“I think my brain is breaking”
he said


Registration photo of Sue Neufarth Howard for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

untitled

Each day I awake
in uncertain times.
Will our freedoms survive
with our new President’s wish to be king?

Yet each day I’m glad to relish joy,
be thankful for surviving
what has ended life for so many more.

I’ve a sweet life to relish.
My life past and present
a daily duty to contribute
to lasting freedom for all.

My joy – love of nature and beauty around us.
My obligation – to help keep freedoms
that many before me have fought for us all.

My joy – so glad I survived.
My task – so important.
Help keep democracy alive.


Category
Poem

I Hate Your Silences

I hate your silences.

Waiting for your rage,

waiting to be punished

for something innocent.

 

At least when you are yelling at me,

I know where we stand.

The anticipation is over.

I don’t have to fear the bad thing

because it is happening.

 

The endless waiting

to find out

what mood you are in

is a special kind of hell

not even the devil

could have created.


Registration photo of Hunter Nelson for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Busy busy spreadsheet Haiku

I was close, so close,
to finishing; but teacher
sent nineteen poems.


Registration photo of Katrina Rolfsen for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

When Life Gives You Lemons

take out a knife
slice them in half on the cutting board
wrestle flesh from peel with can opener
pop pulp into your mouth, pucker your lips, and
swallow


Category
Poem

The Soapmaker’s Husband

(after Sherry Chandler)

1.
To get to be her husband
was luck
I’d gone down her dead 
end road
looking to walk the buffalo
trace to Blue Licks Springs,
she showed me where to start
and came along on a whim,
a clear cool day
after Thanksgiving
but I swear lightning
was in the air

Brief doubts 
life issues 
her children, my children
my job, her business
melted like bees’ wax
into a candle 
that we burned at both ends

Soapmaking on the scale 
of 1,500 bars per batch
left me amazed
at her strength 
of mind and body

Olive oil, coconut oi[, & tallow
she rendered from beef fat
in a cast iron pot with a wood fire,
mixed together and poured 
into a 50 gallon honey tank

My early morning task:
stirring it all together 
with a canoe paddle
for three hours.

2.
It must have been love

3.
Soapmaker
Queen of essential oils
Professor of alchemy
      to turn lye, water & oil
      into a oval bar shaped
      to be held in your hand
Artist of the label design
       and the exact act
       of wrapping each one
       in good time
CEO of sales, shipping & craft shows

4.
Look at the property of each kind:
Lavender
Lemongrass
Citrus 
Rose Geranium
Rosemary
Unscented

5.
Sometimes I open the letters
she gets from customers 
who are pleased to have a soap 
to which they are not alergic.
They often become life long friends

6.
Tonight
after 33 years of soapmaking
I sit with her 
in this old fashioned house
just 50 yards from the soap shop
where the bars from Thursday’s batch
are laid out on racks 
to dry for three weeks
before being wrapped by a neighbor’s 
teenaged daughters 
for some extra spending money.

7. 
Some people call a bar of soap
a Cake of soap.
We”ve had our cake
and washed with it too

8.
Sometimes I imagine 
our life together as two doves
flying about
and coming back to the same place 

 

 

 


Registration photo of Samuel Collins Hicks for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Making Good Choices, Feeling Good Feelings (Allegedly)

A week or two after I died, I stumbled onto a mantra,
one which has served me well in the time since my death. 

A gentle reminder of cause and effect, a deepening of the body-brain connection, an expression of free will, an endorsement of difficult decisions, and a celebration of my resurrection. 

At least, that’s what it’s s’posed to be. 


Registration photo of Cara Blair for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Scratch Marks

The skin raked under
My fingernails is all that’s
Left of our summer