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…



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


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


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


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


until then

I’m left here

sitting – wondering – empty.

Untitled design - 2023-01-28T004704.441

Until tomorrow…


To follow along with the wonderful and interesting posts of my fellow bloggers who are on this 30-day blogging journey with me, click HERE!



  1. Nonnie, I’m in the process of going back to finish up the posts I haven’t yet commented on. All I can say is WOWZA! Your words are so beautiful – I had to pull my chin up off of my desk! Thank you for sharing this with all of us. I’m beyond amazed. : )

    Best wishes,
    Donna M. Atwood
    D. M. Atwood

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I made a typo. Should be … sat down to put …


  3. Oh my goodness Nonnie. I started reading your blog and see my name so you know it peaked my interest. The poem was inspired by my situation and I appreciate that you say down to put pen to paper as thoughts came to you.

    Thank you for always having my back. 💕💕

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Yes. I feel the emptiness until the day I see my brother again. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. What a beautiful poem you’ve created to represent the loss of a loved one! Well done, Nonnie! Thank you for sharing it!

    Yvette M Calleiro 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Nonnie, thank you for your gift of poetry. This week I lost a beloved cousin, Ruth Ann. Though my heart feels empty because of the loss, it beats with joy for she is free of pain, released to eternal bliss.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. A most profound piece, Nonnie. I can relate to that EMPTY feeling after losing somebody close. Your mind is blank and empty, giving up nothing and letting nothing in. Your poem should be read at eulogies.

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Empty is what I feel, watching the news and the senseless death of Tyre Nichols. His empty call for his mother’s help. The emptiness of the senseless violence that ended his life. The emptiness that the families of the five police officers who committed this heinous crime must be feeling. Empty as I made my way through the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, attached to the Lorraine Motel, viewing the senseless violence perpetrated on citizens of this country by virtue of the color of their skin. The emptiness I felt when, in another part of Memphis, I stood in the hotel room once occupied by Martin Luther King, Jr., minutes before he died of senseless violence at the hands of an assassin’s bullet, as a recording of Marian Anderson’s version of “Precious Lord” played in the background. Emptiness last night as one of the commentators speaking of Tyre’s killing had a poster behind him from the garbage collectors’ march in Memphis in 1968, saying, “I am a MAN,” the plea for dignity and respect that brought MLK, Jr. to Memphis in the first place. Empty yesterday when my brother-in-law told me those policemen were “only doing their job.” (WHAT JOB IS THAT, EXACTLY? Paid assassins in police uniforms?) Empty, because I can’t do anything about this, and I am a mother too. Will there be a day when my son or daughter calls for me and I cannot be there?

    Liked by 1 person

    • Wanda, that was a gut wrenching commentary on the state of this country. You expressed my sentiments exactly Wanda!


  9. Beautiful, poignant, and profound, Nonnie. Your poem touched me. No one gets through life without experiencing loss, and you’ve described the feelings perfectly. Praying for Shirley.


    Liked by 2 people

  10. Oh,My ! Tears fill my eyes as I read this poem as my sister loss was so recent.No life is lived without experiencing the loss of someone in your life.The words are clever and indeed profound Nonnie.We all are sharing our Shirley’s pain right now.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thank you Joy. I know you are still grieving the loss of your sister. I didn’t think I would be following behind you. Stay safe my friend.


  11. Nonnie, that poem is beautiful, and – dare I say it – yes, profound. It perfectly expresses that shock of lonliness we feel when a loved one dies. I’m feeling chills . . .

    Liked by 2 people

  12. Hi, Nonnie,
    A deeply profound poem that touches the heart and reminds us that life is not eternal here on earth and longevity depends on our Creator and not on us.
    Shalom aleichem

    Liked by 2 people

  13. My sister and I are rather old now, and empty might be just around the corner for one of us. Hopefully, when it does arrive, there will be room for two…

    Liked by 2 people


  1. DAY 27, JANUARY 28, 2023, A DAY IN MY LIFE…SNIPPETS OF ME By Pat Garcia @RRBC_Org @RRBC_RWISA @pat_garcia @Tweets4RWISA #RWISA #RRBC #RRBC_Community #ADayinMyLife – Pat Garcia

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