Loss January Poems

These Loss January poems are examples of Loss poems about January. These are the best examples of Loss January poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Bio |
My list is long today.
But the voice says sleep --
Don't engage,
Don't create,
Don't make the bed --

Sleep

Begone sunshine.

My mind falls to empty thought --
Is this dementia?
Will my mind curl up
     and sleep to death?

Will I follow my mother into the depths
     of lost thought and fabricated reality?

Will I know my husband
     when I see him again?

Will I even find him?

Sleep

The depression lulls me back into myself
     dulling the memory of lost tomorrows,
          begun today,
               nine years ago.

Copyright © Judith Angell Meyer | Year Posted 2007




Details | I do not know? |
Well we are already a couple of months in so i just wanted to say welcome. 
this will be a new journey for the both of us, so i hope it will be awesome. 
I will try to write more than usual this year, I promise. :)
What would help tho if you readers would send me topics and stuff to help me write about things cuz my mind goes way faster than my fingers and i cant think of just one thing. lol. so thank you readers. plz comment and tell me your thoughts.

Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

I think about this past year... It “came and went…” I wonder that kind of life have I really spent? It almost seems like yesterday that I was a young man… “I had the world in the palm of my hand.” I had many goals, ambitions and dreams. I wanted to enjoy life and do so many things. Looking back on time and how quickly it’s gone by. I gaze up into the beauty of the stars in the sky. As I get older and think about another “resolution.” I find myself with another problem with no “solution.” I think about a God... Who made all of this a possibility! He’s offered to me love, hope and tranquility! I’m going to make a new commitment this January 1st. No matter if things get better… Or things get worse… I’m going to give my life and family to God above. And ask him to bless our home with his mercy and love. I’m going to try to live for him the best way I know. And seek his blessings wherever I may go! I’m going to give to God a love and strong commitment. It’s only in him where I’ll find true fulfillment! There’s an important fact, I shall always remember… God is with me from January thru December! He will be there to guide each step that is taken! With him in my life… I’m never alone or forsaken! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012




Details | Prose Poetry |
Her eyes amused me, slices of January that held April tightly....

she could rain in snow, drop from upside-down skies, and we held tightly to the tears that
only appeared on the opposite side of closet doors as we marked our claim on unusual with
hand prints that never saw the sun.

Two days could have passed underneath us before we blinked, my windows whispered glorious
promises but we kept them closed for safety, for the opposition of who we could be, and
she knew the secret of every season, she knew how to laugh when bedroom doors...

closed.


I drew her behind the mirror and we created October across December stars, we became
disobedient underneath the glorious names we sang that night for lips speak magic when
they pretend to lie and dishonesty was but a kiss away from sunrise.


Time stung me come August, come March, come the age of thirty-two, her eyes had been shut
for years now and she sunk beneath flowers I am positive would be beautiful enough to
photograph had I the courage to glance, but my feet have never crossed the grass that
blankets her and roots her promises...

tangled beneath tomorrow with a tight grasp on yesterday, and I wonder if the days have
yet to fade the color of her hair.


It rained in January when I existed miles away, teardrops of memories that fell as softly
as the whispers of her name, I closed the bedroom door tightly and listened intensely for
the echoes of dishonesty, for she remained there, somewhere, behind mirrors that painted
her and the lies that bit my tongue, that reassured me...


our hand prints would hide from summer...

covered in ice-cream secrets that screamed her pain from a smile, from a foolish wish that
spoke us inseparable.


Her eyes, blue as October, slapped me, that day, as they painted themselves the secrets
girls are never supposed to witness, as they refused to allow April to fall but declared

honesty

with the beauty that she

could never see.



Copyright © JeanMarie Marchese | Year Posted 2007

Details | Quatrain |
Be happy for you have not witnessed it
The time where Haiti shook and fell
On this paper I transmit
This event worthy to tell

It started like any other day
Everything was calm and nice
Maybe it was nature’s way to repay
Us for our vice

In a split second it begun
Everything was going up and down
No matter what, you couldn’t outrun
This destructive force shaking the town

After a while it ended
The place was filled with dead silence
I was with my siblings that I defended
Saving them from this death sentence

I saw a man running with blood
All over his face, and lost his arm
The rest of his body covered with mud
With an organ sticking out of his underarm

During this catastrophe
I lost a lot of friends, and family members
I would like to destroy that part of my history
But everywhere I go that feeling ember’s



I was unlucky to see the remains
Of what was left in this desert
I had to close my eyes for it pains
Me to see my people trapped under the dirt

Just the thought of writing about it
Makes a bed of tears in my eyes
On that day I was whit
My friend as he lays and dies

For what happened to Haiti
Pray it doesn’t happen to you
This pain will cause you to worry
When they say you’re safe is it true?

Copyright © Serge Comeau | Year Posted 2011

Details | Prose Poetry |
“Buy me a scarf” she said and curled her toes through snow to demonstrate the color of
numbness..

“Buy me a scarf and I'll wrap our memories around my neck, you can watch me smile in
storms as I contemplate warmth and look at you beneath the sky.”


I wrote promises on windows with fingers that touched shadows and counted snowflakes
crystals as I destroyed their patterns in a feeble attempt to claim love...

There, in the house that spoke one thousand tears, I thought about the secrets we
whispered when the year turned and purple was fantastic on the other side of frozen lakes
despite the voices that named us something unspeakable.

Rings and silver and I wore one on my toe, polished perfectly, my feet felt summer and I
laughed in lilts of June and breaths of lilac bushes that lined my backyard, but I kept my
closet door shut, winter stitches on shelves so January's voice would never be heard...

I boxed up photographs and letters that quoted songs we had sang together, I covered up
her haircut and placed her eyeliner in an envelope but I knew, beneath the ground where
lilac bushes rooted themselves...

she wore the ring I had placed upon her finger on her fourteenth birthday, on the day
August spoke up and we listened intently, mocking 

January

and bedposts that wrote her name...


and I sat, cleaning prints off of windows, erasing promises and eluding love, wondering,
if I had learned how to knit, would sidewalks have been so convincing?


I listened to memories and bought myself a scarf, wrapped stitches of January around my
neck and heard her, in laughter, as she whispered through the wind that numbed the fingers
that broke promises...

“Lend me your scarf, and I'll see you, I'll hold your hand when August knocks you down.”






Copyright © JeanMarie Marchese | Year Posted 2007