Day #26 of #RRBC’s #ADayInMyLife 30-Day #Blogging Challenge! Come on along! @NonnieJules @RRBC_Org @RRBC_RWISA @Tweets4RWISA #Poetry

Friday, January 27, 2023

Hello, friends!

After receiving a text from our dear, Shirley Harris-Slaughter about her sister, I just sat back in my thoughts.  In those thoughts, I decided that tonight I would write a haphazard bit of poetry, but even though I would let my mind run free, I was for certain that whatever came out, it would make some sort of sense.

You see, I am a poet before I am any other kind of writer.  I have been writing poetry, beautiful poetry, since I was in third grade.  (And, yes, I do say so myself.)  I say this to point out that if I know nothing else, I know poetry; the most subjective form of writing, there ever was!

Now, although poetry is extremely subjective, I have always said, and I stand by, that no matter what you pen and call it poetry, no matter what form you write it in, no matter how you freestyle it, it all MUST make sense.

I see people writing stuff so crazed, my mind is left spinning.  And I know why they do it… some do it because they just don’t understand poetry, and therefore can’t write it well; others do it so that someone else can call their writing PROFOUND… yes, that’s the word… profound.  I chuckle at the thought. But, my dear profound friends, no matter how profound your thoughts, in writing, make it all make sense.  We, the readers, have to understand the basis of it, the reason for it, the whys of it… just make it make sense.  Please!

So, let’s get to what you’re going to find below.  

These are my thoughts.  When I got Shirley’s message, I simply felt empty;  for her.  I’ve lost a sister before.  I know how hard even the thought of that loss is, although, I lost my sister without warning.  What a blessing it is to have the opportunity to say goodbye – to give one final, “I love you.” 

Every stanza below does what stanzas are supposed to do, or, are defined as doing:  a unit of poetry composed of lines that relate to a similar thought or topic—like a paragraph in prose or a verse in a song. Every stanza in a poem has its own concept and serves a unique purpose.

So, tonight for my posting, I give you, my randomness of thought.  I call it…

***

E M P T Y

Tonight, I sit empty

No room to hold another thought

No place to hide my sacred treasures

No place to shield by secret dreams

No place for my fears to run

So

I’m sitting – wondering – empty.

Life is a scary place

Brought here – the will, not my own

But because there was love between two

My heart beats

I breathe

Even after that love has gone

I’m still

sitting – wondering – empty.

The capture of love is a moment

The pain of loss, not unlike death

Yet

we still go in search of that lifetime

For one

we have never met

For one

who will one day leave us

sitting – wondering – empty.

My eyes they flutter in rapture

Batting back the sun

My reasons for living… I still gather

My thoughts… a loaded gun

Did you hear me?

I said

My reasons for living… I still gather

Until reason… there is no more

Clinging to friendships over

Loves that have walked out my door

Now

time has me pinned

sitting – wondering – empty.

When we wave our last goodbye

Our reward at rainbow’s end

The illusion in that someday

Our souls might collide again

But

until then

I’m left here

sitting – wondering – empty.

Until tomorrow…

***

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