Tag: loss

“Forever You”: an ode to friendship at the horizon of loss

On By ©️K.T. 2026In childhood, Death, friends, friendship, Gold, illuminated text, Lajuana Lampkins, Life and Death, Ode, Poem, poet, poetry, Roses, Terminal IllnessLeave a comment
gifted handwritten poem art from one of my newest and dearest friends, Lajuana Lampkins
as my longest and dearest friend,
Jill Johnston Hayes
neared death

an illuminated scroll
drawn on gold metallic cardstock
with pen, marker, paint and crayon
Lajuana Lampkins
September 2023
FOREVER “you”… 
My childhood friend, and through the years, we've grown together, shared joy and tears, were bonded like the day and night, our hearts forever will unite, you've given me, a chance to be, a friend forever, most definitely, I am forever, there is no end, you'll always be, my most best friend, each day and night, I keep you near, always know, that I am here. Thank you for, the love you've shared, nothing else can compare, So much we've grown, and been all through, forever is forever you. 

Poem by Lajuana Lampkins
©️copyright Lajuana Lampkins
September 2023
Continue reading ““Forever You”: an ode to friendship at the horizon of loss” →

worth

On By ©️K.T. 2026In Ode, Poem, poetryLeave a comment

i measure my worth

in deer so at ease they’ll eat kale from the garden, less than five meters from my door

by a home-cooked meal eaten together, while still hot

in heritage Jimson weed blooms, all lemony on summer nights

& harvested, unblemished squash on autumn afternoons

in brown bats, sighted overhead at dusk from the stoop

in thriving houseplants, all properly named and specifically watered

in clean sinks, sheets, floors and birdbaths

by pages read, no matter

by the number of rabbits who see me and then, still choose to ignore my presence

in folks, walking exhausted, in heat, rain, cold or snow, who accept my offer, and climb into my truck with their groceries or booze — for a lift home

in miles walked with the dog, and in my stilled-patience as he endlessly interprets the “news” thoroughly with his nose,

in native prairie plants restored, by my own hand, New England asters, ironweed, sweetgrass, coneflower, have all the mercy,

in minutes spent on the phone with my son,
my golden boy. across two time zones

Continue reading “worth” →

play possum

On By ©️K.T. 2026In Animals, heartbreak, love, Ode, Poem, poetry, StoicLeave a comment

i’m fine

no, nothing’s wrong.

i just really love this song,
gives me the blues sometimes, is all.

a snake, a possum, a doe and fawn
on the roadside killed again, i saw.

i heard the breaking news story
and, i’m awfully raw,

just, please ignore me.

this world can be so cruel and wicked
so,

of course, my tender heart’s afflicted.

you see my glistened eyes, lumped throat, and quivering lip

and, you think they’re for you??

well, sir, or ma’am: that’s rich —

all, lies.

but also,

all true.

the sea of inez

On By ©️K.T. 2026In love, Poem, poetry, relationships, waterLeave a comment

i feel the gravity

of

the love,
the loss,


so close || this close.


almost, almost, almost

buoyed, then anchored

an internal saltwater aquifer suffusing me

with a congestive heartbreak

it, swelling and stiffening my limbs
and, i cant walk to you or anyone,
i am beached in my own body

my eyes fill my mouth, my throat
and, i can’t talk to you or anyone,
i have been muted by our illicit drug

so i

swallow,
swallow,
swallow

the sea inside of me

else, i

drown, drown, drown

in it,

i am not a mermaid
i am merely a human woman

yet my belly’s pregnant
with an Ocean

and, you know that

she’s y/ours

Continue reading “the sea of inez” →

someone

On By ©️K.T. 2026In heartbreak, poetry, UncategorizedLeave a comment

i feel like someone
you last loved on a wednesday,
earlier this week

i feel like someone who was once your intense singular joy/ but now and once again,

just an invisible naturalist, poet, neologist and crone

i feel like someone you forgot to mention the Hilma Af Klint show to

i feel like someone losing “our” intimacy
exponentially, by the second, against a shot clock in an un-united center

i feel like someone whose forehead you won’t kiss; whose hollows you’ll never touch with hands, tongue or tip; like someone who’ll never truly climax again

i feel like someone who upset you with
Dream[ing] and that’s where it all ended; like someone who never listened to your diatribe about Waco, or heard of your plane rituals and four-part fruition

i feel like someone whose mystery you’ll let be; like someone whose content was consumed without gnosis; scarfed down like cold “leftovers”

i don’t feel like someone you will walk across a frozen Lake or dry Lake bed to get to, during the apocalypse, Station Eleven-style Continue reading “someone” →