Poems
Inheritance
by Monique Gaddy, June 2020
I saw my fate was drawn the way I stepped
To move my body through the conveyor
Belt in the factory of life. Prayer,
You graciously gasped, delicately wept
And took pity on my wide eyed, unkempt
Perception. It was shoved in a layer
of addiction dust; neglected, grayer,
than the floors of where the healthy minds crept.
In later years a feeble thought was born
And this thought, it became stronger and well.
It pulled me in my own, wise direction
Far from where my ancestors cry and mourn.
I see my generational gift; hell.
But only at (the owner’s) discretion.
————
Our Home
by Monique Gaddy, June 2020
The smallest planted seed can grow so vast.
Exploding roots, they break from birth and death
While deep and patient lines connect so fast
They mend the way we take on life in breaths.
And so, we reflect. What are we giving?
Nothing that doesn’t concern our own well
Being. We fail to live with the living
Minds, but drift on signals, not where we dwell.
But still the earth it moves and finds its way
Evolving through our reckless behavior
Renewing cycles happen over day
Leading us, our one and only savior.
And though we walk as clueless, deaf and blind.
Our home, it forgives without us in mind.
————
Suzanne in August
by Monique Gaddy, May 2020
I take a sip of coffee and see her
Blue eyes move with the swaying swing. I laugh.
The birds they fly from tree to tree in rain,
And petunias sprinkle my horizon.
I breathe in deep and think to when it once
Was, before the madness of her children.
She tells me about her parents. Their farm,
The way they lived in strength, and their kindness.
I see the way she lives like them and now,
I see the way I want to live like her.
————
Neighbors
by Monique Gaddy, March 2020
At times I peak my head above the fence
To see what life is like through stranger's eyes.
They feast, and here, I eat my slice of bread.
They drink, and here, I crave my doubt of self.
Comparing hurts too much these days and still
I make decisions wrapped in shallow thoughts.