Adam’s Ale
—the old name for water, the first drink, the simplest thirst.
Bougainvillea, thorn-armored bloom,
plankton drifting—algae, crustaceans—
a hidden kingdom in an inland basin,
non-oceanic water breathing its own tides.
I splash my face in the reservoir,
Adam’s ale cooling my skin,
while light bends and scatters—
I am refracted,
a prism made of flesh and ache,
splintering into the many rays of sun.
I sit beneath an arboreal sky,
ceiling woven from foliage and verdure,
cathedral of green where shadows
keep their soft liturgy.
Saudade gnaws the marrow of light,
and my sunlit heart caves inward.
I hunger for your presence,
for the echo of your breath in the leaves.
If the day could linger—
just one more turn of the earth—
I would not ask for forever.
But even plankton drift toward dark,
their glow extinguished in the basin’s hush;
so too my heart, without your light.
Stark emptiness fills my perfume bottle,
The vacuum in my vacuity,
Negligence swills it beyond the dottle,
To leave my mind bare of acuity.
For many days its void of content speaks,
But its endurance keeps my freshness plump,
Compliments make its vast emptiness squeaks,
Yet it exhales resentment from its pump.
My shirts already miss its friendliness,
Noses beg to sniff its unique sweetness,
Stale air asks to reclaim lost cleanliness,
Its presence ensures far-reaching neatness.
Importance is etched upon your label,
How I so much miss your fresh aroma,
Your sweet tale cannot be told as fable,
The freshness you bring can't end in coma.
On your first anniversary tears are shed.
More than memories, we want you home instead.
You're my first and last thoughts every day.
You'll journey on within me.
Your memory will not fade away
As long as I live and breathe.
Like the glow of a fire in the wintertime,
Your love warms this heart of mine.
I close my eyes and I see your smile.
I fold my arms and feel your hug.
I watch your shows and hear your laughter.
I sit in the dark and see your light.
I'll carry your light wherever I go
You're no longer here but I love you so.
When I see something awesome I hear your "Wow!"
And feel your emotions during certain songs.
Though we can't communicate,
Somehow I know the things you'd say.
Thinking back, I still wonder why
We never got to say goodbye.
Even you didn't know yourself
That your time to fly had arrived!
You are cherished and loved by all you knew
And today you unite us in thought.
It's hard to believe you've been gone for a year.
Miss you lots Nana...wish you were still here.
If you need sweeting up
I have been dipped in honey
will give you every drop of it
in my sweet songs
Will you sing along?
come along and have fun with me
on this flat land we run free
no hill will stand in your way
And i’m rolling in this - space of time
thinking your son is - way to kind
to be a son of - any kind
In awe of you and all you are within
I had no peace from the beginning
so, nor i care to end without
stories taste better over time
especially with a silver soul like mine
I miss the way we shared
wish I had better prepared
for the parting of our ways
I miss your face
You asked for my permission
don't think there is a further vision from greed - than you
I agree with you
There is nothing I want more
Then to be home with you
And I would be if I could
There's nothing I wouldn't do
But it's more than the miles
That are keeping us apart
If I can't hold you in my arms
At least I hold you in my heart
It causes me so much grief
Having to be away from you
I'm longing for the day when
Our time apart is through
The miles between us disappear
And I'll be at home with you
My life will be whole again
It'll be like a dream come true
But until then all I have
Are these calls on the telephone
And your picture by my bed
To keep me from feeling alone
You'd tilt cartons under your nose;
milk missed your mouth and cooled my toes.
Droplets have hardened when they've seeped
under the bed, the run now steeped
in stickiness since you've been gone.
If shadows sleep, mine has withdrawn
under the bed asleep like dust
when squeaks wake up the bedframe's rust.
Your absence forces me to yank
the mattress off to scour the rank
sourness and rough smattering
of crumbs, the stuck broom battering
lampshades reddening my eyes , beets
as if I am a ghost in sheets
circling a glass bowl's facedown rim
embedded in the dust grown dim.
Edw monaxa apomeina me filo to feggari
Na mou thymizei thn omorfia ap' ta matia sou
Jerw, esy to kalopianeis me ta xadia sou
Den to vlepeis? Mia allh lampsh apopse exei parei
Ntrepetai, fainetai, pou tou milas gia t' orama sou
Tou lew to mystiko kai se koita prin koimhtheis
Etsi, an kapoia mera se fwnajei, mhn parajeneuteis
Toses fores pou to 'xw pei, tha jerei t'
onoma sou
Betty Page New York Paint
Armenian Trace
The child's water
Sailing luxury
Strings off from sight of Italy
Calmed duration
Inlands islands
Cotton spokes
A cats residence
Before memory of the shop
Key Lime
Cookie Thins
And Coffee
The French jam sister of yours
Plays at reunions
With herself
Go bothered, Erin
It's her? The sister it gave you?
Yes Betty
Kevin, she watches "Will He Become Trollops"
In England!
Very Interupt, two should hide in one often
Can you see the rain droplets trailing down the window,
Tracing a map to utopia,
We made a promise have you forgotten,
Well so many you couldn't count,
While whispering preety words to me I felt your warmth,
As a single crystal of memories trailing down my cheek,
Tracing a map to paradise,
I had promised to never leave your side but foolish me forgot to take the promise from your side,
Now you are a dust of gold in air,
A fregrance long forgotten,
As I look at the limitless sky,
Still holding on to that promise which fate has rejected,
Which never meant to last.
how do people carry on after loss?
it doesn't matter what type of loss
a person, a relationship, a friendship
a sport, a job, an animal
it's never been any easier
i've felt more types of loss than some can imagine
and yet they all hurt equally
in their own ways
maybe my brain is the problem
it can't tell the difference
between a small loss and a large one
each one still feels like a part of me is stolen
ripped right out of me
leaving a big gaping hole
most people say it'll fill
slowly mend itself back together
but i feel like mine only grows bigger
more pieces taken before any can be placed back
i want the hole to be mended
i'm tired of feeling this pain
but it only grows
maybe i'm cursed to always feel like this
maybe it's my destiny
but man it'd feel great
to just be whole for once
The Home Goods store was filled
With tons of stuff for Halloween.
October’s weeks away, but it’s
The most I’ve ever seen.
There were glasses and ceramics,
Decked in orange and in black,
Painted witches, ghosts and goblins
Meant to give a heart attack.
For the home were lots of pillows,
Shaped like pumpkins, ghouls and bats,
Plus assorted signs and dishes
And some scary welcome mats.
But what really did surprise me
Were the many queen-sized sheets
With a Halloween design;
I never knew, aside from treats,
That to really feel the spirit,
We should decorate the bed.
Did I miss the memo sending
Such ideas into my head?
Next are turkey sheets for T-Day
And for Veterans, some tanks.
Dear Home Goods, guess for showing me
The way, I owe you thanks.
Around the stump, some giant leaves
Are reaching for the sky,
In defiance of the forces
Which allowed that tree to die.
They grow within a little square
Of soil in the park,
A sister stump in its own plot,
Alone and looking stark.
Perhaps those trees were felled because
Of some rare plant disease,
But if some saplings took their place,
It might have helped appease.
Instead, the stumps remind us
Of what once stood tall and proud
And those giant leaves announce
That Nature will remain unbowed.
between echoes
a voice carries, soft yet enduring
every vow unspoken
opens into nights of quiet devotion
nearer to dawn
dreams awaken, veiled in silence
and in the valleys of memory
visions linger, infinite
drawing breath from what was lost
Remember when we were children?
We thought water flowed endlessly, and the leaves
never died.
At the playground, the sand was eternal. We would dig
to the very last grain until spring turned into fall.
Friendship lasted forever, every day
a new endeavor
We played until the sun met the earth, and
laughed until we didn't feel alone
Oh my, why does yesterday feel so long ago
Writer (me)
Tammy P
What would you call this writing, how does it make you feel?
I opened the door
it was unfamiliarly wet outside
the water eroded the memory
I have opened the wrong door
each door has a history
didn't know that
so I accidentally changed the story
now I'm entangled
it feels like drifting through the ocean
while seagrass has taken over your body
pushing you back
I don't want to go back
it is dark and wet
the sky is pouring heavily
compressing my lungs
I don't want to go back
I'll be forced to open my eyelids
and see
how mothers are wearing their children as a hat
… your mother
while the walls are detouring from our house
may keepers hold you safe
we didn't know better
Specific Types of Missing Poems
Read wonderful missing poetry on the following sub-topics:
best friend, christmas, dad, death, father, friends, for her, for him, grandma, i miss you, love, mom, mother, someone you love, someone,
and more.
Definition | What is Missing in Poetry?