Category: Poetry

“Write Your Own Story”

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Lune, 3 Parts

Someone placed a label with the phrase, “Write Your Own Story” on one of our elevator doors, tucked neatly in the corner. Had I not been paying attention, I would have missed this message. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

write your own story
the message
could save my scared soul

change is a constant
that’s a truth
no one can deny

I’m ready to move
ahead now
time waits for no man

bedbound

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an unscheduled day off
enfolds my screaming body.
the mind stays strapped to
the foam of an
inviting mattress.

the soul cannot move.

I know these days . . .
mentally, I’m challenged,
and freeing myself from
the depths of this dark
space is often harder
than I’d like.

bedbound for the morning,
I watch news of Western NC
as cities lay underwater,
roads are washed away, my
friend’s brand new home
drowns before her eyes.
food and supplies have to be
air-dropped to designated
places.

“these are the last days.”

I turn over to reach
for someone to hold
and forget, momentarily,
that I live alone.

Autumn relaxation and football Sunday

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humidity sits on the
sidelines, jealous of the
calming sun.

the dog and I walk to
loosen up my shady knee.
her little hips wobble and
creak, but she presses on.

we’re both breaking down
in different places, but Autumn
lets us relax in ways we
never dreamed we would.

I, eyes glued to the TV,
watching men violently crash
into one another for the grip
of tightened leather.
she, asleep for most of
the day, no worries on the
horizon.

we found ourselves comforted
by Sunday’s kiss and Autumn’s
embrace–we sunk into an
ocean of quietude, blended with
satisfaction, and stayed there
until evening made its
appearance.

neither one of us is
ready for Monday.
but it’s coming anyway.

hurricane Helene

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a lune, 3 parts

hurricane Helene
pummeled us
with her windy waves

power outages
reported
all throughout the state

advised to be safe
we found peace
safely in our homes

To those of you who rode out the harshest storm in years, it is my prayer that you are safe and sound of mind as well. Peace and blessings.

tortoise tableau

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a tableau poem

Zumi Tye Walking Around Its Terrarium. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

red-speckled tortoise
moves around s l o w l y
takes sips of water
and is greedy, too–
cozies up to me
when I tap the glass.

I learned about this form recently while reading an example at The Skeptic’s Kaddish, and I instantly fell in love with the tableau.