Details |
Humble Poet Poem
My dearest Anna,
It has been three Tuesdays since I lost you.
I will never forget seeing you, just lying there.
I went to our regular coffee shop, at the regular time.
For the second week in a row I ordered both of our drinks.
It has been seven episodes of that show you like, since I lost you.
For that matter most of the things on the DVR were yours.
I’m just not ready to delete them, it’s the little things.
I don’t think I can just yet.
It has been nine Saturdays since I lost you.
The drugstore called yesterday and said
your medicine was ready.
I picked it up.
It has been four paydays since I lost you.
I roamed the store parking lot looking for a space
that didn’t remind me of you.
Bought the peanut butter you like.
knowing how you crave your midnight snack.
It is the first Thanksgiving since I lost you.
Dinner at my parents was nice
but not one person mentioned you.
I called and canceled Christmas with your parents.
They said they understood.
It has been nineteen Sunday
walks in the park since I lost you.
More than once my friends told me
it is time to pick up and move on.
What is so important about moving on?
I lost someone I love. It’s not like I can stop
loving you and find someone else.
It has been half a year of mornings
waking up and not seeing you asleep.
Many a morning I watched you sleep.
You are more than someone
I wanted to spend my life with.
You were a comfort, a constant, a habit.
It has been five months since
I have heard you tell me you love me
and the memory is starting to fade. I can’t lose it too.
It has been one hundred seventy four days,
sixteen hours and twenty-one minutes since I lost you.
To him.
Copyright © Humble Poet | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Humble Poet Poem
Oh, how should I explain to a blind man,
what it's like to be blue?
or what the sky is like
what it is to be true?
Oh, how do I profess to a deaf child,
feel the music so strong?
the miracle of five,
people playing one song?
Oh, how am I to preach to the heartless,
the sanctity of love?
How to tell the difference,
love or the loss thereof.
What can I say to the disenfranchised,
of the wealth they possess?
Just trying to get by
they need only confess.
What can I say to the sighted it seems,
how they are truly blind?
or that they cannot see
the truth they leave behind.
What to tell the nonbelievers below
of the man up above
Who want only one thing
to give us all His love.
What alibi do I give to profess,
that I will commission
That miracle itself
is that He has risen.
Copyright © Humble Poet | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Humble Poet Poem
Hearts bonded across the land
not deterred by the miles
Whispers and promises
finally a chance to meet.
Hearts were finally filled
such joy never known
they sat and watched
the sun settle into the Pacific
“Hold on to me,” she asked
“just a little while longer.”
Copyright © Humble Poet | Year Posted 2015
|