(Poem) A Loop

The first of my subscriber-exclusive poems, direct from my notebook. This poem is called A Loop.

A LOOP

the memory
replaced with hunger.
the hunger replaced with weight
and then remembering.

suppose tomorrow
is just yesterday
moving.

suppose distance
is really measured
in time

and you are always
a little further
away.

the memory
replaced with darkness.
the darkness replaced with yellow
and then remembering.

———

I’ve been writing these slightly longer pieces a lot, recently. They make up the bulk of my new chapbook, The Things We Leave Behind, and I have to say I really enjoy the freedom this kind of poetry affords.

While Instagram is a phenomenal place to publish poems (and the community is really something I’m proud to be a part of), the nature of sharing through a visual, photo-based platform is that the medium invariably impacts the message. So while I love writing the concise poems I’ve been sharing for the last two years, it’s nice to connect with my readers via a medium that can accommodate longer, more traditional forms.

This particular poem is about the repetition of grief, particularly during lockdown. The nature of staying at home all the time means things begin to run together, and for me the days have begun to feel indistinct from one another. Dealing with anxiety and loss during this period has been tough, and I guess this poem is a reflection on that struggle.

I hope you enjoy the first of these poems (which are exclusive to this newsletter). I’ll be sharing two brand new pieces every month. I hope you’re all having a wonderful week, and I’ll email again on Sunday.

Yours,

Blake.