Fragments
I have only a moment’s time to spare
I’ve chosen now to give my attention
Things await me,
unfortunately of more consequence
and I fear I cannot dedicate
the tender care which
you are due
found poem from an overheard conversation
When they showed it to me,
I don’t know,
I just started crying.
It was just like,
there she is.
She keeps me alive.
She’s so pretty.
Don’t you recall?
You aimed for their mothers first,
Ripping life from their bodies into newborns,
Then tore apart their families
With cruel rules that built cages.
You burned the life outside next,
Letting poison into their lungs and blood,
And scorching earth for your own designs
‘Til nothing remained unscarred or sacred.
Then you bared your guns and bombs,
Though crying when someone else used them as designed
To shoot whatever souls remained,
Massacring the ones you claimed to guard.
And those that survived losing all you took away?
Their childhood lies dead in the rubble.
Quarters at the crosswalk (quarters, if they’re lucky) rounding up at the cash register (what a scam), dimes marching on Halloween, green dollars for brown candy bars guaranteed to keep kids off drugs, a penny for your shitty thoughts on bootstraps, and the efficacy of such. I gave at the office, you get what you vote for, if you don’t like it move.
Hold tight, hold tight, hold tight, else there’ll be nothing to bury you with. If you go giving a fuck when it ain’t your turn to give a fuck,
you risk leaving an empty tomb.
There is little that a simple
And single thank you shows
To a man who tirelessly works
And gives his best, all to his family
That never really knows how much
And how often he could’ve given up
But because of them he kept going
And gave them every ounce of love
He never got, but most definitely deserved
And he never complains when days are short
The nights are long and worrisome too
And he has to keep his focus on the goal
Thank you seems it’s not enough to say
And I will do my part to make sure
This man doesn’t forget his worth
And knows he is loved beyond all measure
I walk up my parents’ driveway
stepping over the place I used to sit
on summer evenings like this one
To my right is the house where
an elderly couple once lived
and before them a couple and a kid
To my left is where a new family
moved in when I was in middle school
and now that family’s grown
The white dog with brown spots
that wags her tail as I approach the door
is new, too, but I am so happy she’s here
Like a slow inhale,
then an answering exhale,
each wave
another letting go.
The measured pulse
that drowns the noise of the world
until only silence
and the sea remain.
This is where I read,
where I dream,
where I wander,
where I feel,
where I simply am.
Here,
life loosens its grip.
I have never feared solitude.
I have learned
to savor its quiet gifts.
But—
your company
might alter even this sacred ritual.
Like a cool breeze
crossing the water at dusk,
asking nothing,
yet changing everything.
The kind of grace
one never thinks to long for
until it arrives.
I miss you like a good dream I’ve woken from,
the color and splendor dissolved into daylight,
a gray hazed bedroom, life stunted in the stale air.
I wanted to grow up with you. Our radiowaves
used to amplify a magic. Glitter in the frequencies,
smoke my sadness out with paint fumes, foolish hope.
Big plans, schoolgirls, off to college, then fresh-faced
adults. We would’ve come to no harm. We would’ve
set a force field with our joy, you could’ve swept up
my fragments and they would’ve rejoined in your palm.
Now I’m devastatingly lost. You’re in greener pastures.
My time loop doesn’t accommodate for texts begging
to bridge me back into good days. There are no good days
when I’ve mazed myself into such a bleak dead zone.
