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Affixed to the Lee–Enfield,
this blade, this trigger point,
stricken by ambush,
enters the melee
along the false edge,
cuts to the core,
like sympathizers of
William of Orange.

There are no daggers
apart from war,
just an ocean of
death and defeat,
its water,
its ever rising water,
swallows us whole.
I need time
To be normal again —
If I can ever be the way I was

I need time
For those thousands of emotions to settle —
If they can ever settle  

I need time
To not cry
To beat the sadness
To sleep well —
And not to wake up with an aching heart

I need time
For my mind to clear
To function logically

I need time
To smile again
To tell you that everything is okay

Because it’s not okay
I am not okay

So don’t tell me to move on just now
Don’t tell me to not hold on to the past
Don’t tell me this and that

Because I loved deeply
And I love deeply

Because I am grieving —
And though for someone, it may be one less person in a world of over 8 billion people
To me, she was my mother, my world
Some parts of your journey
Are only temporary
And maybe, this is one of them.

It teaches you a lesson
About losing, accepting
And at last, letting go.

It might feel heavy and dark
Yet that's where the light begins to seep in,
Slowly bringing you back home
To yourself.
Well, such is life. Imperfect, yet ours.
~
May 2025
HP Poet: Todd Sommerville
Age: 60
Country: USA


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Todd. Please tell us about your background?

Todd Sommerville: "I was born and lived in Fenton, Mi until I was 8 years old then moved to Florida and on to N. Carolina at age 15. I've called N. Carolina home ever since. Worked most of my life in the furniture Industry. Literally from sweeping floors at 16 to programming CNC Machines and designing furniture by the end of my career, and every job in between. I have one son named George, 27, who is the pride of my life and a talented musician and song writer."


Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Todd Sommerville: "I have dabbled at writing both short stories and poetry since I was in grade school, but didn't start writing seriously until I was about 50 years old after the breakup of my marriage. Sadness, depression, and copious amounts of alcohol just seemed to bring out the poet in me. (Does it get anymore cliche?) LOL.

Anyway I was writing constantly during that time, even self-published a short poetry book (A Relationship in Verse) available on Amazon. (Shameless Plug), not really it was mostly drunken crap even though I was proud of it at the time.

Anyway to make a long story a little less long, I spent about a year getting myself together, quit drinking, and repaired the relationship with the girlfriend I have today. I started writing seriously again about a year ago. I think I started posting on HP about September of last year. And started my You Tube Channel in November, which I absolutely love doing."



Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Todd Sommerville: "What inspires me? Well, originally I would say Heartache and Romance, once again (Very Cliche) but I think looking at the world differently, and finding some inner peace has allowed me to be more creative in my poetry. I look more towards nature and solitude for inspiration as well as trying to interject some humor into my poetry as well."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Todd Sommerville: "Poetry is my outlet, it is my voice. As a shy quiet guy I always found it hard to express myself verbally. A problem I don't have when writing."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Todd Sommerville: "Honestly I'm not well versed in the classics. I've been more or less self-educated, I dropped out of school at 16. But I do remember reading Robert Frost when I was a kid and I loved Poe's stories, Annabel Lee being my favorite. But to be real some of the poets right here on HP are some of the best I've ever read. Shout out to Rob Rutledge, Anais Vionet, Thomas W Case, Emma, Immortality, Abbott J Hardison, You, Traveler, and a couple dozen others. I hate leaving anybody out."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Todd Sommerville: "My other interests? Traveling, riding motorcycles, neither of which I do nearly enough. And of course my you tube channel which I'm determined to make successful.

(Last Shameless Plug) https://www.youtube.com/@tsummerspoetry."



Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Todd, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!”

Todd Sommerville: "Thanks for Honoring me with this spotlight. I hope I wasn't to boring or long winded HP is my go to place to get feedback on my poetry and inspiration for future writes.
Thanks So Much.
Todd"





Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Todd a little bit better. We certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #28 in June!

~
My body is not my own
Pass it along to anyone
And my heart doesn’t live inside
I have nowhere to hide it
And the places I’ve called home
They are not my home
I think I used to feel differently
but now I don’t know

You always had a place to go
You always had someone to hold
I had to listen to you fight at night
And now I’m alone

I know you never loved me
Sometimes I still want you to touch me
Down in the trenches
You always knew what to provoke
so I’d never come to my senses

And it’s mostly all my fault
It would be easier to say I blame you
I was too young
I didn’t know
I was hurt
It wasn’t my decision
but it was mine to make
Still,
I can’t take it back
I cannot escape
It has nothing to do with you
anymore, anyways

It all crescendos to inaction
And floods my interactions
It all feels too big
It’s in a cloud
above my head
And I can’t reach it
The intangible
weight of grief
I am a miserable
ghost of me
In progress
i miss people who are still alive,
and i don’t know what that means.

one sits next to me in class,
another a row behind me,
and one living in another state.
they all feel equally far.

the door didn’t slam,
they just stopped knocking,
while i keep mine open,
just in case they remembered where i live.

i see their faces in pictures
and flinch like it’s a memory.
they look happy.
they look happier than when they were with me.

maybe i’m too easy to forget,
or too hard to keep.
i can’t determine
if i’m too much or too little.

they laugh with other people,
not cruelly—just without me.
and i tell myself that’s okay,
but i still search for my name in their smile.

i miss people who are still alive,
and it feels like i’m mourning
something everyone else insists is fine.
i suffer in a silence only i can hear.

i know what absence is,
it’s in the spaces
they used to fill
without even trying.
i feel sick to my stomach
reading words you once wrote
that once belonged to me
my heart is throbbing
How could I shield myself from the words
that lift me into the highest lowness?
Dearly beloved, raw openness,
the source of my grace and imperfection.

I feel strangely weightless
when my precognition
whispers to me about my possible future.
I hush all my names,
they’re not statues carved
by the thoughts of others.

I watch people drift in and out,
I touch the tree leaves in the cold wind.
Looking tenderly into the eyes of black ravens
I just try to see what they see.

I don’t fear the dark,
the primal womb that gives light
and birth to worlds spread across space.
Losing someone I love is my only fear.
Death comes uninvited, in its own time.

Love is my helpless, naked truth.
My moral compass still works
in my body.
At night, I find sleep and rest.
In light, the warmth,
and the souls of others.

I see the tired hearts
I find solace, looking into the light.
The body brings fleeting fullness.
I gather the crumbs of mystery,
expecting nothing,
just enough to find my dignity
and make peace with the unreachable.
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