Five Poems by Desiree Batiste

 

Following Greatness

 

Strolling with Frost

on the road less travelled

Reassuring Poe

his nightmares will

plague him nevermore

I fell into Whitman's

leaves of grass

and picked myself up

to continue the trod

through Longfellow's

footprints on the sands of time

Johnson and I

hear the echoes of

the change of seasons

My only unwanted companion

being the shadows in my mind

reminding me of just

how black the darkness was

which I survived

Each time when I thought

it was the end

when I fell into nothingness

as a way to save myself from

all the pain which I

remained trapped in

Poet voices would whisper to me

“You've got this!

You are one of us!”

and so, I jumped up

dusted myself off

and continued my unpredictable journey

through the unknown

ahead of me

on Frost's road

and thank God every day

that this was the path I chose

leading me ever closer

as I am following greatness

 

*This poem incorporates snippets of poems from: Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken”; Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”; Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass”; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s “A Psalm of Time” and Michael Lee Johnson’s “Sundown, Fall”.

Hourglass

One tiny grain of sand

For every tear I’ve shed

Every punch that landed

All the times my heart broke

Each time I was brought to a lower low

The grains continued to fall

Somehow it feels like time slows to a crawl in misery

And pours out faster in the light of joy

I know I’ll never stop the sand

There’s no chance to flip the hourglass of life

When the sand runs out

And we finally leave this world

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust

My hourglass will shatter

Releasing my spirit

Paroled from my mortal sentence

Ready to begin life everlasting

Free of the constraints of time

Only peace is possible in this place

Outside the hourglass

On the Floor

 

I need a snack / Munchies for TV time / I go in the kitchen / and pull out a skillet / so I can sauté / some chicken / for a salad. I put olive oil / in the skillet. / The new bottle / pours out fast / and when I pull back / I spill some on the floor. / “I’ll clean it up later” / I say to myself. / I grab the chicken / from the fridge. / When I open the package / juices and meat blood / spurt onto the counter. / “Where’s a wipe? / I need to clean this!” / I get the bleach wipes / and wipe the counter down. / I go to put them away / and accidentally / knock them over / Bleach goes onto the chicken. / I pale and realize / now there will / only be salad. / I grasp the head of lettuce / and put it on the counter / then get a couple of tomatoes. / I wash a tomato / and take it over / to the cutting board. / It’s slippery and / I lose my grip! / I try to grab / for it / and slip in the oil / on the floor. / I go to stabilize / my balance / and end up smashing / the poor tomato / with a squish. / I wince, seeds are / between my toes. / I reach for the lettuce / so I can chop it up / with the last tomato / and have this / basic salad. My hands, still wet / from washing the tomato / slide on the surface / and launch the lettuce / into the corner of / the kitchen. / The corner / which has all manner / of crumbs and dropped things. / I watch it… / you guessed it… / hit the floor / and roll / through the oil / then stop in the / joint of the corner cabinets. / I shake my head / and exhale, / knowing that this / simple task / was beyond my ability / to execute. / I pick up the lettuce / and see Oreo cookie crumbs / a dried piece of / shredded cheese / and many different / colours of cat fur. / I shake my head again / as I look over / the kitchen floor, / which lost the / Battle of the Salad, / as did I. / People don’t believe that / diets are hard / but the struggle / is real! / I shrug at the mess. / “I’ll clean this up later. / Guess I’ll have to / order pizza. / What a shame!

She is Not Me, but I am Her

 

Standing here now

The woman before you

is nothing like the ‘me’ of then

 

I cannot see how

I survived all I went through

I knew I’d escape, just didn’t know when

 

I wish somehow, I could go back in time

and talk to my former self

to chisel wisdom into concrete ears

 

I wouldn’t try to change my life

or try to amass wealth

but just try to leave some comfort to pass the years

 

I still want the life I have now

It’s all I could have wished for

and I’m thankful it’s mine everyday

 

But there’s a part of me that doesn’t like how

behind every closed window and locked door

stood an obstacle in my way

 

Obstacles make us grow and change

That’s not the part I don’t see

or why I’d reach out to the me that’s malleable

 

I must ask; I find it so strange

as I look over that past ‘me’

Did you know that you’re valuable?

 

Of course, you don’t

That is why you gave up

and threw your hopes away

 

You say you’ll try harder, but you won’t

All you say is “how high” when someone says “jump!”

You wish for no tomorrow because of the pain felt today

 

What would I say to her?

That ‘me’ of 1995 with strong will?

I would gently take her hand

 

and say, “I know things are horrible, sure

and they’ll get even worse, still

but you need to hold fast to your faith

 

Remember life is a miracle returned to you

This is a blessed second chance

Your decisions will shape the path we walk”

 

She will know it’s true

She will walk away without a second glance

and think, “thanks for the talk”

 

But the words…they’ll take a while to sink in

A seed planted which needs time to grow

into the hedge maze we now traverse

 

Each time we get lost within

she will come to know

when dealing with time, there is no reverse

 

The maze is changing behind us

giving us only options forward

Pushing us towards the present

 

Each time we make a fuss

or try to make the struggles beyond hard

the memory of our talk will be heaven-sent

 

That wall behind us, made of leaves

pushing against our back

guiding us to the now

 

cares not for sobs and heaves

cuts no slack

Only knows you must move forward but cares not how

 

Step after step, year after year

Heartbreak, time and again

Scars that heal, but never stop bleeding

 

Determination replaces fear

even at times when

she cries she is not getting what she’s needing

 

Do I think she will remember the words?

Will she keep moving on our path

or will she go a different way?

 

She’ll be drawn to what she yearns

But how can you be sure? Picking leaves off my back…

…because I’m here, now; with you today

The River

 

Go with the flow, they say

try to let go

Sometimes the pull

is rushing me forward

Cold rollercoaster hands

throw me this way and that

Fear grips until

the inevitable moment

when I am becalmed

Floating as driftwood

without a care in the world

Please stay forever!

Let me just meander aimlessly

in slow peace

Not meant to be

Not for me

Smashing against the rocks

A rude wake-up call

I feign surprise

but suspected all along

I am tossed once more

never knowing when

peace will return

I can’t fight it

We’re all in it

A part of it

The river of life

Desiree Batiste is the author of the book, "The Shaping of a Diamond", an inspirational 27-year journey of survival and perseverance told through poems.She was born in 1979 in Mesa, Arizona. She currently lives in Buckeye, Arizona with her husband Michael, daughter Kaylee and their four cats: Sketch, Pixel, Trace and Slim Shady.

Desiree uses poetry and writing as a cathartic way of healing from her past experiences. She has more books in the works: a second poetry anthology, a psychological thriller fiction novel and her autobiography.