routine

NaPoWriMo #30

I wake up to the sound
of heavy rain landing
in puddles on the ground
the dog snores then exhales
I push myself up
from the comfort of a bed
that loves me more than
this weather ever could
10 hours ahead of me
screening and registering
patients, and the beat
goes on . . .


Twitter Poem

failure to beat the rain

NaPoWriMo #20

This morning, I allowed myself more time to simply rest in bed after opening my eyes. I did not peel myself away from the comfort of my pillowtop until well after 8 am. This resulted in me trying to walk Jernee in a massive downpour as the rains decided to shower down in sheets on us. But, I never felt more alive than I do right now. Peace.

 

Sharp: Part II

Raindrops and the poolside. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

The Rains Came

Robbie clicks his tongue, summoning a new day, the rains came along to cleanse what has been made dirty. Jaimie is still asleep. Her five-year-old dreams cause her to smile… Angels are watching over her. She snores lightly, unaware of the half-man/half-devil waiting not too far from their door. He toys with the blade, licks his sharp teeth, and smacks his lips.

He measures the distance from the bushes to her window. From the bushes to their front door. From the bushes to their beaten up, midnight blue sedan, and then counts…

He counts the number of minutes it takes him to beat the sun and kill again. Dawn does not wait for him, it awakens to the birds’ songs.

Just one more, he thinks. Just one more. 


Part I

Sanctified Love

Hummingbird painting by Rocket Worley, photographed by Tremaine L. Loadholt

I am waiting on a
storm that only tempts me
with its pressure–
stalling on its landing.
I see the pearls of your eyes
glean in the sunlight,
your hummingbird love covers
me, draping me in buzzing
wings, my guardian angel,
ready to defeat the eye.

every hurricane season, I feel you
caress my untouched breasts,
beasts of past lives
saunter in, cackling at my
distorted view of us.
I am Moses rising,
my staff thrown into
the pathway of raging water,
splitting it in two.
it is there, in the midst
of Biblical anecdotes and parables
where I find a sanctified love,
one that harbors the weight
of your trembling hands.

I want more of you.
I need more of you.
you stand at the brink
of falling, my heart as a jewel
tied to your back.
you carry it to an unknown destination
and I watch your shadow
float off into space,
trekking alongside hummingbird love,
guardian angel, sent to
make me believe in the power
of the sanctification of
yearning souls.

 Artwork by Rocket Worley