the first conversation the sun had with the moon: a collection of poems

By jason a. kendall

This is a collection of poems that follow me back to my younger days. These poems reveal some of the darkest moments of my life, in addition to the most overwhelmingly happy ones. They're based on observations, both fictional and factual. They embrace the intersections of life and death. They reflect nature and its preposterous hold on my soul. These poems have emanated from notebooks, napkins, text messages with my brother, the imaginations of my kids, my romance with my loving wife, and various other ingredients of the life the poems seek to illustrate. They are a journey, embarking into my love for writing and the curiousness of everyday life. This journey seems to be indefinite...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Mar 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781649696076

Book preview

one 

we stir confidence like sugar

in a cup of black coffee

realizing too late

we never liked coffee to begin with

Mamaw’s breakfast

it starts with a warm bed

then a sizzling sun

as it cracks through the curtains

maybe just one more stir

before you rise

and find yourself scrambling

down the hall

towards a faint smell of morning

you sit, squeezing out

the last ounce of sleep

simmering in a daze

finally, over easy anticipation

and a bowlful of smiles

you are presented with the prize.

she joins you

just happy to share your company

love never tasted so good.

you eat, until your belly is full

then you sit and digest the day.

when we became parents

there's something more important

than us

holding with the tiniest of fingers

the strings to our hearts

and we have no idea how to keep him alive

our instincts are valid as the swelling

eventually subsides

we begin to notice the best

and the worst

parts of ourselves are magnified

in his fragile (yet sturdy) little body

gratifying? yes

but the thoughts that run quietly

through our heads, keeping us up

at night…

we are not ready

we can't do this

we are not enough

then

he looks up to us with curious 

and forgiving eyes

and we realize

we are not alone

he falls a hundred times

before one day letting out a pleasing laugh

as he wobbles across a notable stage,

one foot

in front of the other

we are convinced he knows everything

and we, the grown-up versions of ourselves,

talk him out of it

we should stop more often

listen more clearly, because

time is a thief of our youth.

it's not about coloring between the lines

or wearing matching socks

it's not about

perfect hair or a clean room

it's not

about being on time or

orchestrating a sane mind with a skillful wave

of the baton…

we give in

and reconnect with our own

desire to explore

and discover relevance

in an otherwise mundane world -

messing up along the way

falling flat on our faces

(we all know we only care when 

someone notices) then

we get up and try again. with

ambitious legs,

until we wobble

until we walk

until we run

not forgetting to laugh

all the way across this notable stage -

wherever that may be…

she loves me

i closed my eyes 

bent down

to a patch of clovers

and picked one.

i pulled off the first leaf,

she loves me…

and the second, 

she loves me not.

(i planned it that way 

so i would win.)

i pulled the third leaf

from its hold, 

she loves me.

i smiled and opened my eyes

in front of me was a fourth leaf

such was my luck 

with love.