Hey kids, I’m getting things ready to format the upcoming (and much delayed) “Beautiful Twist” Anthology. A big thank you to the contributors who’ve been so patient and understanding as I navigated through the complexities of compiling all of the different works coming in. I’ve been fortunate this year but also very busy. Preemptive release date for the anthology will be July 2023. Here’s a little smackerel of poetry.
When Last Did You Sit In Silence?
When last did you sit in silence only the oceanic rush of your own breath filling the tide pools of your lungs drawing back out into the world When last did you sit in silence and feel the crushing weight of a world decimated in human destruction and did you wonder how much better it could be without your clumsy footfalls your grunting breaths and dripping sweat as you toil to leave behind the reckless hurtful fire of man behind Didn't you feel so small? When last did you sit in silence a speck below a billion stars and feel the unbearable lightness of being insignificant the silence a reassured shush of our mother reminding you that you are just a moment a stardust burst in a vastness that will soon forget you if it ever knew you at all Doesn't it make you feel so small? When last did you sit in silence and feel this freedom?
Don’t forget to check out The Writing Heights Writing Conference this May (tomorrow is the LAST DAY to register for in person sessions so get on it!!) The link is here: Conference Registration.
Also, for more of my poetry or my novels, visit this site: S.E. Reichert Novelist
Found
when they find me
i will be alone
the questions and headshakes
directed in quizzical depths
to the loam and silt they cannot sort through
no reasoning to be caught
in bucket or screen
when they find me
dressed as animals are
in the skin i was in
the day i roared into the plain
i will shock in cold white
filled with trout breath
and minnow kisses
When they find me
broken shell
battered
lovely in purple and blue
head struck rock
knee scraped branches
lips in shades to make
mountain bluebell envious
they will lament
such wasted splendor
when they find me
the questions of why
i was lost to the brine
a jointer to the self-takers before me
whispers will static the air
of all the ways i failed
and too long loitered in futility
when they find me
they will burn the empty package
while I sneak,
soul-snake in water
down river bends to the sea
never to be found again
This Isn't a Poem for You
So this isn’t a poem for the broken hearted
it is not for those who were left behind
or ghosted
or dumped
or abused
or disregarded
This is a poem for those who watched
as another soul walked away
sat in their silence
was released from another person’s life
faced pain at their hands
or were simply ignored
into nothingness…
You are the warriors of time
you, who have felt the sting
of heart break
and disappointments
you are the carriers of grief
and the bodies made of scars
and you have lived through
every burning cut
and every lonely night
This is not for the soul they broke,
this is for the you that survived.
This is not a sermon from some high tower
that you are stronger for it
that you are braver because of it
that you are a better person
a heart bigger,
with these new and ragged cracks
to let the light in
I will only tell you what I know
You survived.
you packed up your heart and your mind
and you moved on
you accepted their silence
you treated your wounds and closed the door
you started paying attention to yourself
when they no longer did
and that carries weight
self determination
and the ability to move past
the fickle and soft-seated lies,
of a love always perched to flee
the very second things got hard
Your feet remain grounded
and you outlasted
You heart is a seasoned warrior
and it may never let another in
but it doesn’t have space anyway
because in their absence
beyond the echoes of their abuse
the pain of their mistreatment,
you’ve filled your heart
with the unfaltering love
of yourself
they can’t ever move back in
there isn’t room any more.
Sarah Reichert Author 