One Day You Won’t Recognize Me | Poetry Remix No. 45

I sense one day you won’t recognize me.
They say to remember where you came from.
But I say sometimes change is meant to be:
To march to the beat of a different drum.

One day you won't recognize me
Photo by Yudi Indrawan on Unsplash

But only a still small voice inside knows
the rhythm of life soon to be composed.

I Thought You Were Dead

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I Thought You Were Dead | Short Poem No. 111

They wheeled you out and I thought you were dead;
Your hospital bed mirrored a casket.
I ducked down and dropped my lips to your head.

I thought you were dead
Photo by S L on Unsplash

This season, I lost two people I love.
Appeals go up, if I’m able to ask it,
not to take this third soul, too, up above.

I Write in my Grave

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.

I Write In My Grave | Short Poem No. 110

I write where I passed. . . I write in my grave.
I write in passing. . . there’s naught I can save.
Writing can sometimes rekindle my gall.
Can writing sometimes rekindle a crawl?

Would you ditch me here in this tomb to rot?
You observed me carefully mark my spot.
I sunk in sin, duped by a false lover.
What love grants you to die for another?

I write in my grave
Photo by Josh Miller on Unsplash


I grew in sin, became a false lover.
False love robbed you of me to another.
What’s reckless, what’s not. I deserve it all.
But cautious love will seize me when I fall.

I lie in my grave. . . I whisper your name. . .
Remind myself that love’s always the same.

Sometimes, My Only Friend

© Jonathan Pines and WritingWithStrangers, 2019, except where noted otherwise. All rights reserved.