loss – novamartinpoetry.com

Poems

The Cats Who Loved Me

I miss the two cats who

loved me deeply.

I tried my best to do the same

for them and I believe I loved them

deeply as well.

They’re gone now.

They’re both dead.

And I live alone.

I talk to them still from time

to time.

Empty voices in a wooden house.

I feel them here with me.

Or want to feel them here.

Or need to feel them here.

Maybe you’ve had a pet or

a lover or a loved one before

who’s no longer there;

either deceased or moved on?

Maybe you can relate to this

kind of vacant feeling?

And maybe, just as I,

you still hope and believe

in something…

because you have been loved

bigly.

Poems

While taxiing on the runway
for our flight to Mexico,
you sitting two rows behind me,
my eyes filled with tears
as I simultaneously thought
of the love here now
growing between you and I
and also my heartbreak and loss
from an abortion five years ago.
That child would be five years old today.
I believe I carry her soul in my heart and body
as I live out my time on earth.
When I conceived her
in the middle of
a cold Michigan winter night
a light burst forth in my mind.
That light continues to
burst out of me
in all ways, in everything I do.

Traveling along the runway
I saw wildflowers growing
from weeds,
plastic bags shredded in the barb wire
of the airport fencing,
and an ambulance
rushing someone away
on a secret emergency airport road.
Once we caught flight,
I looked back and saw a glimpse
of your blue eyes
looking out into the blue skies
and I said to myself,
“Oh, here we are”.

Poems

At The Axis Of Night

When the desert was outside
I dragged the dildo outside
and pointing to the South wind
I plaintively said your name,
looking at the edges of Tuscon,
“Raymond . . . Raymond . . . Raymond”.
The wet glaze on the
polyvinyl chloride phallus
became lost and muffled,
muddled with dust.
I coughed and my lungs hurt,
a lone bird chirped in the distance
towards the east,
towards the chain hotels,
the sad glow of logos,
the chain restaurants,
the generic corporate way of life
we all know.
Then,
I walked back inside to watch
Channel 8,
still mumbling to myself,
“Raymond . . . Raymond . . . Raymond”.