the day is looming
finally, the only way out is to jump
I cheer myself on
whispers, mostly
encouraging myself to rediscover
all that’s left
behind
my fears are subsiding
truth has a way of revelation
to know is to accept
or at least is a key to the beginning
the beginning of finally
As one storm rolls on,
the next surely brews
to challenge a future dawn.
But the friendships that I choose
soften destructive wind to breeze
while mending gash and bruise.
We’ve created such soothing memories,
cherished moments of serenity-
shelters that stand with unshakable ease.
Soon we will celebrate our perennity
even with those who must move on,
a rainbowed group of love and amenity.
Through heartbreak and heartache, we’ll be there.
Through death and loss, we’ll be there.
Through physical injury, we’ll be there.
Through sickness, we’ll be there.
Through times apart, we’ll be there.
Through oppressive studies, we’ll be there
Through tests passed or failed, we’ll be there
Through workplace woes, we’ll be there
Through whatever other storm life can throw,
we will be there.
Though the rains may try to flood and drown,
though the winters threaten to ice and freeze,
nothing can topple this shelter I have found
because with friends like these,
how can I ever truly get knocked down?
And so I pray we hold together forever, oh please.
LexPoMo whispers, a call to the page,
June 30, 2024
Loss has many forms:
someone is taken,
someone forgets where they are.
Maybe it’s the incremental
creep of love disappearing,
or the false sky with its broken gray,
or the path to darkness that leads
away from the life you’ve lived.
Loss can be piled up like limbs
missing in action, or take prisoner
then awarded with silver medals.
It’s not the same as original sin,
nor is it a component of good & evil,
but more like the air
after a quick lurch of nesting crows
Too soon I think, the thunder has rolled through, passed me by.
Static electricity drains from the air
and the hairs on my arms can lay down flat again.
Summer heat closes back in around the disappearing tunnel made by a June tempest so great it slowed the whole earth’s orbit for a little while.
The sky is clearing, but I feel like I’m losing. Flat again.
Bronte turns back into a regular girl.
I’ve been chasing storms
learning how lightly to touch a heavy-laden cloud to release its cooling cargo.
Just one fingertip, maybe two, a tiny pinch,
any more force and the bubble bursts, the deluge splashes away, uncatchable.
I’m left drenched, but not quenched
I’ve been practicing
holding lightning rods, flying kites, trying keys
from my rooftop on tiptoes
amniotic and emerging
trusting the wind to catch me up.
I think I became the lightning for one bright moment
basking in the glow of explosion.
The sky is clearing, and I feel like I’m losing.
Tomorrow, storm season will be over.
(I offer my thanks to every poet who has shared their work this month; I’ve been entirely inspired, challenged, and moved. This has been a wonderful time of learning and growth and I’ll miss the daily rush of reading your poems and sharing mine!)
Born a buckeye
Salmon patties and cornbread still graced the table
Shit fire and save the matches
I’ve unintentionally gained a little accent
Changed my state citizenship as soon as I was able
Papaws on both sides said goodbye Appalachia during the great migration
I didn’t anticipate that eastern Kentucky college campus would be the subject of my life’s preservation
More at home here than I ever was on the other side of the river
I’d have to have a real good reason to leave her
If you had one still, I’d probably go kickin’ and screamin’
I was raised to believe
that God is
immutable,
omnipotent,
omniscient,
beyond reproach,
the same as you were.
So answer me this.
Do you believe that people
with alternative lifestyles,
you know, beings that
God knew before they were born,
knew what they would do
before they did it and
had the ability to change it
and didn’t,
are these people mistakes
of an infallible God?
Or are you just failing the
love your neighbor mentality?
Woke up this morning, bleary,
