walk

“In the Absence of Light”
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“In the Absence of Light”

There’s an absence of light
Behind my eyes,
An absence of words
In my fingers,
And on my tongue
Sings voices I have not heard
In many years.
There’s an absence of warmth
From my arms,
Where a baby would sit;
An absence of solemnity,
The kind that was sad
But also safe.
There’s an absence of fear
Yet an absence of strength
In my legs, enough
To stand on sand
As the chilling ocean waves
Sweep me out from under.
An absence of sincerity
Haunts my movements
And my intentions,
An absence of desire
For camaraderie,
Fellowship, constraint.
An absence of openness.
There’s an absence of light
Because I walk in the dark.
But in the absence of light,
I still walk.

Catherine Joy

Going Crazy: A Poem
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Going Crazy: A Poem

Just gonna first say…oops! I’ve missed FIVE weeks of poem posts! Because of that (and because of previous occasions of missing weeks), I will no longer falsely title my posts “a poem a week” because, well, it has not exactly been faithful to that timeframe. Anyway…have a poem!

Going Crazy

I pull the string and get off
Anywhere, and I walk, walk, walk.
Sit in front of a house I like
And close my eyes, pretend I live there.
Pretend, pretend.
Daydream until it breaks my heart.
Until I’m broken.
Then I get up and breathe,
Walk, walk, run.
My feet clop-clop on the sidewalk
Because I wore my heeled boots today.
And I breathe to that sound.
I breathe, and lose, and lose,
And can’t stop running.
Away, away,
Sit down and hold my breath.
I see another bus pass by.
Close my eyes again because
I can’t scream.
I tap my toe, bite my lip,
Bring my fingers to my scalp.
I look up to the leaves,
The shining orange leaves
That are beautiful and feel like forever.
They could stay forever, in my mind,
If I choose to let them.
There’s a house with a porch
And I almost take the steps,
Just so I can stand there and pretend
I could stand there forever.
And then I remember: nothing lasts forever.
There’s a bus stop three meters away,
And I walk, walk, walk.
I put headphones to my ears
And forget I was ever here.
And so to the end, the end of days
When I’ll remember this moment again,
And I’ll think to myself,
“Boy, was I crazy.”

Catherine Joy

A Poem A Week #31
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A Poem A Week #31

Your Story

Dear old man that I pass
On the trail
At exactly 7:45am
Every morning…
Who are you?
And what is your story?
You seem like someone
Who might have fought a war.
Vietnam, perhaps?
When we cross paths,
With a smile
And a “Good morning,”
(I can’t imagine you hear mine;
You’re always wearing headphones.
What are you listening to?)
Sometimes
I want to stop you
And ask you for your story.
But the two small dogs
Pulling on my arms
Would never allow that.
Perhaps you wonder
The same thoughts of me.
Who is this young fresh-face?
What did she possibly achieve
To arrive in such a place?
Truth is, I’ve achieved nothing.
My story…I’d rather hear
Your story.
Then, perhaps,
I can add something to mine.

Catherine Joy

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When it was about to rain Part 2

Another small part to my newest story. Enjoy!

I came home late again. Not because I was working. Not because I was at school. Not because I was visiting a sick person or passing out water bottles to the homeless on the street. It was because I was indulging in what my mom considered the most selfish act to ever be conducted.

I was taking a walk.

My mom accused me of running away. Each time I returned with a complacent look on my face, she insisted that’s exactly what I was doing. I would just smile, shake my head, and step lightly to my room, as if I had just experienced the most satisfying thing in the world. In a way, it was satisfying. Knowing that I was always right and she was always wrong, it was enough to go to bed without the necessity of coming out again until morning. And all the while, the rain would come, in one way or another. It would come, and it would make my day better.

By the way, my name is Lorraine. I prefer Laney. Actually, I prefer Luna.

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5 Little, tiny dreams

For all of us, there are those big lifelong dreams, and then there are those little, tiny dreams that we can’t help but think about and desire to fulfill. They seem so small and insignificant to others, but to us, if we can just fulfill it once, it would make our world. Here are 5 of my own:

  1. Jump in a pile of leaves. They never happen in Texas, and so I’ve never been able to do it. I want to know that wonderful sensation of landing in a frothy pile of autumn leaves.
  2. Sing a worship song. I’ve sung solos before in church, but it was more a performance than for praise and worship. It’s something I think about often…
  3. Read by candlelight. Technically I could have been fulfilling this my whole life, and yet I haven’t done it yet. It has to be on the perfect night, though, like a stormy winter night.
  4. Walk through snow. I’ve seen snow, but not legit, real snow. I want to walk through it, bundled in boots and a coat and everything in between.
  5. Keep a scrapbook. Though this dream would span a number of years, it’s just a little dream that I want to start and continue on.

What little dreams do you hope to fulfill?