Category: Tamiko Lowery

From Old to New

there is blood

on the linoleum

dark and dried

it won’t scrub clean

the girl on her knees

tried

to clean it up

it bothered her

being there

soon as you walked in the door

she saw it

that was the welcome mat

nobody talked about it

that’s how it always was

the morning after

but there was evidence

this time

broken bottles can be swept away

doors can be replaced

like furniture and lamps and dishes and collectibles

holes in the walls can be fixed

like screens and windows and handles

bruises on the skin

can disappear

nights in the ER

stop blinking

yelling and screaming

can quiet down

threatening thunder

can clear like a cloud

knives can be put back in the drawer

chainsaws can be turned off

beers and bottles can be trashed

but a pool of dried blood

on a linoleum floor

won’t evaporate

or dissolve

and the girl stares

at the stain

on her way out

and her way back in

maybe it bothered them, too

years after she left

they got rid of the whole thing

and had something squeaky clean delivered

new locks and doors

new walls and windows

new furniture and floors

all new floors

but they never could quite

get rid of that stain

‘cause it bled on through

TL

Child Abuse

broken bottles

in the ditch

locked my door

went under cover

wished for

anywhere

traveled

book to book

nobody knew

what I really went through

8 to 18

all they saw …

Rah, Rah, Rah

“Most Likely

To Succeed …”

they never saw

a child

always afraid

of the drink

of dark

the girl who

never wanted to

go home

used to say

i got away

told myself

“but they never hurt me …”

only later

would I realize

when they hurt each other

they were hurting me

only later

would I realize

each time they tried

to kill each other

they were killing me

only later

would I realize

the abuse

of sWords

cut the core

of who you are

or ever hope to be

only later

would I realize

a drunk

has no memory

no remorse

not even to this day

only later

would I realize

how deep

the damage …

how torn

the trust …

only later

would I realize

you can only

run so far

only later

would I realize

certain things

only God

can forgive …

(took me 40 years to realize)

TL

Ever After

into the night

swirl the stars

catch the edge of the moon

at the tip of the pyramid

like Rome

from the ground up

a mastering of the mind

what it imagines

in the realm

of thought

the child knows

how it ends

even if the story

changes form

the ending is the same

we long for it

in that first glimpse

of what could be

TL

Papa T

at the bottom

of September

it’ll be a year

your house

in limbo

like we

and I wish

you hadn’t died

like that

there

wasn’t fair

the rage I feel

helpless to help

what do you do with that

it just follows you

in and out the door

and mocks you in the mirror

quiet in the morning

before it all

begins and ends

and circles

back around

again

TL

On This Day

he’ll sit there

on the front row

not the middle

or the last

but the front

his heart in his eyes

it’ll all go by

he’ll bow his head

and get up

and walk out

to the car

at the front of the line

and he won’t want

to get out

won’t want to stand there

in the sunlight

on this day

this summer day

so, he’ll have to sit down

and he won’t want to get back up

won’t want to drive away

and go back home

but she won’t have it

and she’ll tell him so

she’ll tell him no

you gotta go

you gotta go on …

go on now

TL

It Waits

there’s something

to be said

about old love

it stands alone

at the window

watching the sun come up

and go back down

it sits at the table

in the chair

across

in a corner booth

a Sunday pew

it walks down the hall

ready for bed

but doesn’t sleep

it’s counting stars

and sheep

and all the years

the life it made

the photo album’s fat and full

the song’s still playing on the radio

like it did back then

the movies re-run

the book picked up

where it left off

finishing sentences

being the punchline

yelling back

trying not to laugh

picking up the phone

so the other don’t worry

holding the umbrella

the suitcase

waiting for the other

to come back out

all dressed up

and there were roses

without occasion

moments without saying

and you can’t explain it

to a newlywed

yeah, there’s something

to be said

about old love

and how it waits

TL

Moorland

on the incline

taking the club back

thrusting it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

take the club back

thrust it down

and all at once

i left the ground

on one plane

the engine inside

full of sparks

was roaring

down the runway

gathering speed

molecular in its distance

gone are the hard things

heavy in their grip

leapt my heart

into the blue

ocean of the sky

humming like the wind

felt the sun rise

within

the sand so hot

to skin

finds relief

at the bottom

of the sea

where it wept

against obsidian

for a thousand centuries

and became the mist

over the moor

TL

Other Side of Somewhere

a moment

drops

curls from the cloud

watched it fall

seep

the hard earth

drunk it down

in thirst

past frozen nights

the fury of the wind

fists of rumbled rain

punching in the dark

flash after flash

pressed to the pane

the smallest drop

saturates the soul

leaving body to bone

no matter how old

or how the sun sets

and rises

in the room

light and bright

and beautiful

she stood in them all

and found something to do

something brand new

took a brush

a pail of paint

and kneeled at the corner

behind the metal door

a shade of winter white

for the child

who went missing there

that night

when the moon was out

and about

shining light and bright

and beautiful

out there on the other side

of somewhere

TL

Kenny Chesney

came to town

and played a song

and stripped it bare

a simple verse

that turned a stadium

into a single seat

“Drinkin’ was forbidden in my Christian country home

I learned to play the flattop on them good ol’ Gospel songs

Then I heard about the barrooms just across the Georgia line

Where a boy could make a livin’ playin’ guitar late at night

Had to learn about the ladies; too young to understand

Why the young girls fall in love with the boys in the band

When the boys turn to music, the girls just turn away

To some other guitar picker in some other late night place

Yeah, I held on to my music; I let the ladies walk away

Took my songs and dreams to Nashville and then on to L. A.

Up to New York City, all across the USA

I lost so much of me, but there’s enough of me to say …

that my Home’s in Alabama, no matter where I lay my head

My home’s in Alabama, Southern born and Southern bred

What keeps me goin’? I don’t really know.

Can’t be the money, the Lord knows I’m always broke

Could it be the satisfaction of bein’ understood

When the people really love ya and let you know when it’s good

Well I’ll speak my Southern English just as natural as I please

I’m in the heart of Dixie, Dixie’s in the heart of me

And someday when I make it, when love finds a way

Somewhere high on Lookout Mountain, I’ll just smile with pride and say …

that my Home’s in Alabama, no matter where I lay my head

My home’s in Alabama, Southern born and Southern bred”

(song written by Randy Owen of Alabama)

TL

“Great Expectations”

movies split

in half

fell asleep

on the border

but she stayed up

past the credits

next day

before coffee

she’s asking

don’t you have the book somewhere

the book …

The Book ….

THE BOOK …

did I hear her right

wipe the sand outta my eyes

head to the stack by my bed

pull out the hardcover

run my hand over the etching

close my eyes

thank you … Charles Dickens

and then she’s turning pages

folding back chapters

still sitting in the car

reading …

an hour goes by

a revised edition is checked out

and comes home in the backpack

she reads the whole thing

buys a new copy at the store

talks about the main character

and writes about him

as if she weren’t nine …

“Pip is a generous, kind, loyal, forgiving person.

In tough times, he stayed calm and kind.

Even around horrible people he stayed good.

He loves Estella,

but Estella is taught to be bitter and cold from Miss. Havisham.

Miss Havisham was broken by a man she loved,

but he only loved her for her money.

He sent a letter canceling the wedding at 20 minutes to nine.

Estella always loved Pip but never showed it.

In the end, Pip wants to marry Biddy, but he finds out Joe just married her.

He goes to Miss Havisham’s house after she passed and found Estella in the garden.

Then they finally fall in love and admit it.”

TL

Hard Shells

I hunt

for Easter eggs

in the woods

the briars

the straws

the webs

round white shells

dimpled in the sun

pick up each one

within reach

the brimming basket

now light

I carry it

across the lawn

and dump the eggs out

and one by one

I chip ‘em

back into the woods

the briars

the straws

the webs

TL

Dusk

it matters not

the day

if I remember it

or not

it matters not

the day

if I found it

or not

it matters not

the day

if I kept it

or not

it matters not

the day

the break of it

the dusk

folded flat and put away

stuffed or starved

held or withheld

standing in the rain

or cold in the grave

I sat in the sand

and waited

way too long

the sky a tearless blue

in summer

changes its color

in the winter

a different shade

in the fall

and returns itself

in the spring

a buried bulb

left in the ground

grows

each year

dimmer

through the lens

of an eye

but more brilliant

than the day

I remembered it

I found it

I kept it

when it mattered

not

the break of it

the dusk

TL

Long Lens

in a parking lot

on a side of town

plated up

the sun low and lazy

the liquid movement of the morning

rises

and drips a drop

into my cup

and I stir it round

gentle against the lip

the clouds pinned to a line

where the birds sit and sing

beaded there like rain

a diamond necklace

unfastened

nothing matches

and I feel like I haven’t slept in years

I just doze in and out

with my eyes closed

snapshots in a dark room

the bending of light

a prism

brushed against the wall

in different shades

tones

and hues

TL

The Way of the Wind

miles away

a string of lights

stretch the blacktop

blinking

on and off

like lights on a lake

I watch the flow

wondering where do all the people go

where have they been

what have they went through

what do they want

what do they need

did they find it

after all …

the wandering

or did they let it pass them by

thinking they’d get another chance

but chances are

a bit like a sail

boat

and I’ve seen ‘em go

by

sat in the burning sand

squinting

but the high wind

never does bring ‘em back

around

this way again

TL

Barefoot

you can bury

the day

burn the map

empty all your pockets

inside out

put on a different coat

hat

and cut your hair

to there

then grow it back

put on pounds

and take ‘em off

run around

hit the brake

sit way down

cut the light

the switch

open a door

shut it

slam it

behind

shop around

try on every shoe

sole

and wear ‘em out

across the street

up the bank

down the trail

through the gate

around the corner

the circle

past the trees

the brush

the crows are cawing

a shadow forms

fills

and falls

like hot tears

against a cold cheek

heavy-laden

into a box

a black box

nobody opens

the perfect petals

each stem

strand

turned to ash

the wind scatters

like a hand-full of stars

on a frozen night

beyond touch

or reason

or wishes

and it’s too bad

they don’t make a pair

for that

for that long

long walk home

TL

Fetch
he waited
for the ball
to be thrown
into the water
soon as it hit
the surface
he’d jump in
after it
leaving behind a wake
nothing mattered but the ball
he would swim to his death
to hear, “good boy!”
the ball wedged in his mouth
he’d die happy
TL

Distance

out on

the range

you hit some good ones

and some bad ones

but it don’t matter

nobody cares

nobody’s keeping score

you do your best to hit ‘em

long and straight

even if they tend to go

left to right

and, sometimes, nothing lifts

but dirt

damn it!

you get back in position

and try again

and it goes long and straight

and all the bad shots

fade away

it’s what I love

about golf

you get to begin

each time

you go out there

and play

TL

Closure

in two

weeks’ time

she’ll be

on a flight

14 hours

with her

kids

going and visiting

her dad

her mother’s grave

other family members

sights and sounds and scents

from her childhood

and I’m listening to her

tell me all about it

and I don’t know why

but I start to cry

and can’t stop

I try and try

but can’t

and I don’t want

her to see me like this

anyone to see me like this

to see how deep it goes

how it’s always there

and she tells me

she’d go

with me

if I ever

but it’d be

like Everest

just to board

let alone touch

down

not like there’d be

this family reunion

or anything

or that I’d understand

a word anybody was saying

or anything

and 14 hours

I mean really

yeah, no

can’t see it happening

nonetheless

a part of me

is left

there in that orphanage

in Korea

a baby I need to hold

and never let go

TL

Weeping Willow

there’s a willow

that sits

on the edge

of a ripple

her hair

left long

and golden

tousled and untamed

a fountain there

sprays a mild mist

a balm against

a summer sun

scent in a whisper

the mist

mimics memory

of an untold

story

as legends go

her leaves fell

in a whirling winter

leaving the bark bare

a lamp without shade

the trunk burned

by day

in embers of rain

the bark

took her tears

and etched them

against the grain

and when night

the moon

a slice

the coolness

of the stars

like snowflakes

that disappear

in sleep

there he dreamed

a good dream

as he stood

by the ripple

the promise

of spring

her hair

all around

the dream

eternal

TL

Unprepared

months later

got a letter

from the book

store

telling me

sorry

but

couldn’t

find

a copy

of Ephron’s

work

not Sleepless in Seattle

or You’ve Got Mail

or Julie and Julia

but the book she wrote

about her neck

and how she felt bad about it

standing at the helpdesk

on a day I turned 40-something

the young girl

typed in the long title …

whilst trying not to look at my neck

and I was young

like her

20 years ago

when the furthest thing

was this

how nothing prepares you

for this

not the weeds of gray hair

not the relentless wrinkles

not the climbing cellulite

not the tight inner tube

not the field of freckles

not the aches

not the pain

no, nothing

quite

on the day

you look in the mirror

and see

some-

thing

you never thought about

worried about

and I wanna tell 20

SPF

not just your mask

but everything below it

especially your neeeeeeeeeeeeck

‘cause someday

you’ll be a desperate fool

reaching for something

anything

maybe even a book

to help you through

TL