Poetry 5-22-25

Posted on by sereichert

I’m in a weird mood today. This is the season of transitions, of pressures and demands, and I feel like I’m shutting down in the face of so much of it. Here’s a weird poem to align the inner workings of my mind to the outer life, relentlessly attacking. 

Sweater

I put your memory on
like an old sweater
in all the little winters
of my despair

Here the arms pull through
to hide the stinging cuts
Here, ribbed neck fraying
to protect from the noose of loss

Here the cabled warmth
falling over my eviscerated belly
Here your memory tucks my vital pieces 
back together, safe and warm

The woolen comfort of words
I will never hear again
from nights you probably don't remember
a softness in the dark, held briefly

I am a lint fuzz on your shoulder
but you are my favorite sweater
the one I cannot sleep without
the only thing that offers relief

Purpose and hope exist
in the scratchy bulk
of a garment I once borrowed
but was never mine to wear

I put your memory on
like my favorite sweater
in all these winters
of self-imposed despair.

Poetry and Poetic Books

Posted on by sereichert

I’m going to drive ya’ll nuts, but there’s a link below, if you’re interested in buying my latest book; “No Words After I Love You”.

This stand alone novel is a journey through grief, friendship, creativity and love. It’s about how the heart heals, (or doesn’t) and all the ways humans punish themselves in an effort to be ‘strong’. It’s about deep-seated friends, the kind you’d answer the phone for, even if you don’t answer the phone. It’s about choosing your own family, and learning how to let go the wounds from the real one. Its about trying not to fall in love, even when your heart is already decided. It’s about soup, and rain on dirt roads, its about knowing how they take their coffee and a campaign for bushier, wilder eyebrows. It’s about denouncing god and still finding divinity. Check it out: BUY NO WORDS AFTER I LOVE YOU

And now, a short poem:

Daredevil

My heart does all her own stunts
Never one to sit back from the danger
or sip Rosé while someone else 
takes the fall

Oh no, she's always been 
all in

She sees the perilous ledge
the death defying leap
the broken bone canyon 
and nods with bravado
flicks her Marlborough into the abyss
exhales the clouds of calm
and dives in

My heart does all her own stunts
but the scars are starting to show
and the puckered skin 
and toughened hide
cannot beat as strongly
as her younger self once did
The bullets she's taken, stab wounds
and excisions
the irreparable losses that linger
in phantom limb syndrome
beat ragged and untimed

My heart does all her own stunts
but I cannot convince her to stop