Four Collaborative Poems by Nolcha Fox and Ken Tomaro

 

Ken's stanzas are left-aligned, Nolcha's are right-aligned

Names

 

We capture what we name.

We name where we are

when we are here

and out of reach

to find ourselves again.

 

We name things

that are out of reach

and in doing so

lose a part of ourselves

 

We lose our names,

we lose ourselves.

Face it, we are lost.

 

I wonder if there's a name for that.

 

It shall remain nameless.

And free.

 

Untitled

 

I come to a door

I open it

not because it's easy

or because I'm curious

or because I'm bored

but because it is the only one

that will open

I take weak little steps

not because I am unsure

but because I am tired

I follow the same path

not because it is worn

But because all paths are the same

 

The only door that opens

is to dirty dishes, unmade beds,

laundry someone left behind.

By the time I clean this house

I’ll be too weak

to find a pathway out of here.

 

So I walk through the door

do the dishes and laundry,

clean the house.

I pay a few bills to keep the lights on

hoping to brighten the path,

that someone may find me.

 

I close the door

and turn off the lights

so that no one can find me.

Maybe they’ll stop

sending bills.

 

Return to sender:

Recipient no longer at this address.

 

 

Trees hide

 

my plans for the future.

Leaves cover memory

of where I began.

I cannot go forward,

I cannot return.

Branches block moonlight

and shroud me in shadows.

I’m lost to myself

and the ghosts that I love.

 

Gray bark covers the scars,

shading my brittle skin

from the heat of the sun.

Lost are the memories

of where we all began.

I cannot go forward,

I cannot return.

Love is lost in the trees,

ghosts hiding in the moonlight.

 

My skin is scarred

and brittle

from love lost

in the trees.

The sun melts

paths to past regrets.

The shadows

shroud the future.

 

Past and future,

like the branches of a tree

lead to different paths,

sometimes the same regrets.

 

 

If you want it bad enough

 

it’s your toothpaste.

Get up every day

and brush your teeth.

 

It's your coffee.

Drink a cup or two

and let the subtle roast

work its magic.

 

Give up everything

you want for Lent.

Except coffee.

Never give up coffee.

 

Or just give up.

 

Just kidding!

Just making sure you're awake.

If you want it bad enough,

never give up,

 

unless you're treading water

in the middle of the ocean

miles away from land.

 

All the coffee in the world

won't help.

 

My alarm dog

won’t bring coffee.

I don’t know if she swims.

Don’t go in the ocean.

And don’t give up caffeine.

 

Screw it, just give up!

Sink to the ocean bottom.

invite the fish

for a cup of coffee.

Don't worry about the alarm…

the dog will get it.

Nolcha Fox - Nolcha’s poems have been published in Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Alien Buddha Zine, Medusa’s Kitchen, and others. Her poetry books are available on Amazon. Nominee for 2023 Best of The Net. Editor for Open Arts Forum. Accidental interviewer/reviewer. Faker of fake news.

Website: https://bit.ly/3bT9tYu

 

Ken Tomaro is a writer living in Cleveland Ohio whose work reflects everyday life with depression. His poetry has appeared in several online and print journals and explores the common themes we all experience in life. Sometimes blunt, often dark but always grounded in reality. He has 4 full-length collections of poetry, most recently, Potholes and Perogies available on Amazon.