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On a sailboat
On Lake Superior
This shimmering body of water and I
are separated only
by a thin layer of sunblock,
a pair of shades

On a sailboat
On Lake Superior
Moments move as slowly
as the low breeze nudging the sail
I know not the year
or state I’m in out here
I know only
that I am the water
and the water is me

To Do Lists of life on land
cannot find me
sheltered here
by waves
Cradled here by currents
older than any human care
I am free as I float
Agendas, ambitions, anxieties—all inferior
On this sailboat
On sacred Lake Superior

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
I wrote this after an amazing two day trip on a sailboat on Lake Superior.
Like soldiers of comically varying heights
I line up my pill bottles along the border
  of my place mat for morning roll call
Some plastic, some glass—
  Green, white, purple, yellow, gold
Each with their own earnest promise—
Energy, metabolism, muscle function,
  allergy relief
And I earnestly swallow each down
Willing each to complete their mission
To find success in the battle against time
Willing them to bring new life
  to this tired body of mine

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
For several mornings now, this poem has asked to be written while I dutifully take my morning vitamins. I hope others can relate in how I find humor, hope, and a little sadness in this routine.
I wear my past like a cape
Superman’s got nothing on me
now that I’m free

All I’ve overcome
widens my stance
straightens my shoulders
I didn’t die
so I raise my chin up high

Shame, regrets, fear
in bullet-shape
bounce right off
my bullet-proof drape

Finally, I truly mean it
when I say, ‘I’m fine’
for I wear it like a cape,
this past of mine

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
Can anyone relate to this poem?
Shawn Oen May 23
The Foundation We Build

Beneath new beams and fresh-cut pine,
In the hush of evening’s slowing time,
We shape a space with care-worn hands—
A daughter’s dream, a life’s new plan.

My son-in-law, with steady grace,
Beside me in that shadowed place.
We lift and frame, we brace and bend,
Not just a room—but means to end.

My father’s voice, still calm, still wise,
Echoes through sawdust-scented skies.
Three generations, hearts as one,
Driving nails until it’s done.

There’s laughter echoing off the studs,
And plans sketched out in drywall dust.
Each hammer’s swing, each nail we drive,
Another way we keep love alive.

And yet, amid the joy and sweat,
There lies a quiet, soft regret.
A space beside me not yet filled,
A longing that won’t quite be stilled.

I wish my son could see this too,
And feel the pride in what we do.
To pass this torch, to share this bond,
To build a life he’s proud beyond.

And someone else—I feel the lack,
A presence missed, a voice held back.
To share the dusk, the ride, the road,
To lighten up this blessed load.

For family’s more than blood or name,
It’s showing up through joy and strain.
It’s knowing love in tired hands,
And finding peace in shared demands.

And when the stars begin to show,
And quiet calls me home to go,
The country roads stretch soft and wide,
With sunset bleeding on each side.

My body aches, my spirit soars—
For in these nights and through these chores,
I’ve come to see what matters most:
Not walls, not tools, but who we host.

A future built with sweat and care,
With love poured out in each repair.
And in that basement, warm and bright,
Lives not just shelter—but their light.

To give, to build, to stand beside,
To share the load, to swell with pride—
I know now what family means:
It’s not the house, but all the scenes

Of working late and driving slow,
Of quiet peace when day lets go.
Of building futures, hand in hand—
On sacred, sawdust-covered land.

© 2025 Shawn Oen. All rights reserved.
Hills, trees, rocks, cold waves
A city wrapped in the wild
Duluth, steel and heart

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
I spent a few days in Duluth, MN and wanted to challenge myself to capture its essence in a simple three 5/7/5 syllable lines.
I need truth & light,
not lies & fights.
Emotional security,
not shame &  anxiety.
I need love that’s true.
Sometimes ‘Hello Me’
is pronounced ‘Goodbye You.’

Not every promise is golden.
Sometimes, vows need to be broken.
Leaving was brave,
given how you behaved.
Not every ending is unhappy.
Sometimes ‘Goodbye You’
means ‘Hello Me.’

I’d rather be single
than a married martyr.
I’d rather laugh & mingle
than keep on trying harder.
I need something new.
Sometimes ‘Hello Me’
is pronounced ‘Goodbye You.’

I choose my mental health
over double-income wealth
Wellness over weakness,
happiness over secrets,
freedom over familiarity.
Sometimes ‘Goodbye You’
means ‘Hello Me.’

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
I played around with the order of these stanzas a lot before finally settling on this order.  I also debated the title.  At first I called it "Sometimes" but I worried it weakened the declarations of self-discovery within the poem.  Does the flow work for you as a reader? How about the title?
Your family hates me for leaving you
They don’t know
I would have died had I stayed
Even a cactus can die of thirst

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
These lines came to me this morning while grieving the loss of ex-family.  Despite the pain of being misunderstood by those who used to call me daughter and sister, I have no regrets about choosing my wellbeing over martyrdom.
jagged little tooth
protruding from the roof

of my mouth, unseen
by all but me

inside it hangs
a secret fang

hidden by my smiles
my feminine wiles

reminding me
unbeknownst to you
that I can bite
draw blood
if I need to

Do I need to?

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
Inspired by reality, improved by metaphor.
Inside the shadows of my mind
I search
and reach
and try to find

I kneel
And dig
And scratch the black
Aching for direction
An answer back

What buried treasure will I find
What happiness
Motivation
Peace of mind?

Is there really any reason to be found?
What’s it all even for?
Maybe it’s just darkness
And dirt
And nothing more

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
I wrote this poem in 2013 to express the despair I was feeling.  I am so happy to no longer feel as though I'm fruitlessly digging in the dark! My heart goes out to anyone who is currently feeling this way. Please know, it gets better.
When I speak with confidence
I hold my head up high
I look ‘em in the eye

When I speak with confidence
I no longer feel small
I am ten feet tall

When I speak with confidence
I stay calm and kind
I say what’s on my mind

When I speak with confidence
I stake my claim
And invite others to do the same

© 2025 SincerelyJoanWrites. All rights reserved.
I wrote this last night at a Women's Empowerment Group.  The  journaling prompt was to finish the following sentence:  When I speak with confidence.
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