Author Archives: Nichole Sanderson

Red Ink

This was written 8 years ago in a style I had never written in before or since.  It was influenced by a classmate at SLCC who had a R&B/rap style that transcended the typical dross of the that genre and … Continue reading

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In Deep

In Deep

Waters surround, swallow sound
refract the light and I
am light
Heavy here
weightless underneath the weight of seas
Lighthouses ashore, assured,
left unseen
There is an ocean to wade through
though, first, one needs to sense
up and left
downside and right
but the sun is set
while gravity can’t lend itself to
the one situation where it would be of use

That’s physics for you.

Covered in deep
Lost so long as to think those navy ripples
could be sky-clouds
Trying to figure out a shape or figure in them
to pass the time
perchance they’ll assemble themselves
into some sensible meaning
But they’re no product of conscious consequence
Just chance patterns subject to a need
for gleaning

It becomes tiring
fighting the cold and numb
I’d drowse, succumb
but lungs won’t allow it
considering a resumption of their employment
inevitably comes with sleep

That’s the pons, you see.

So, rather than rest and drown
I’ll retain my breath
Someone must love the suspense
Fits hand-in-glove with the tension of
Pulled, quartered, evenly, so, stilled
as the will commits to simple existence Continue reading

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A day can go by where I separate the moments we spend “together”, we’ll call it, from myself. My breath, I catch, and relieve my consciousness from the attempt of reaching ideal: our satifaction. Together, we’re supposed to be, to … Continue reading

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The Place to Rivisit

The Place to Revisit The place to revisit is familiar the place I must go into that tunnel of abstractions, horrors, delighted depths — a roadway directly toward the center of the earth, having watched the humanity it houses on … Continue reading

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The cards you sent faithfully,
blue ink, sweet words; matched your eyes.
Certain songs take me back to that talk
that February night you consoled this distraught mind,
my torment you
eased for a moment.

A cavity creeps into my chest by
small triggers of memory. In a hike
alone, your face flashes, those eyes
pang and pierce while I step over every stick and stone
that you cannot.
There is no reception for my idle thoughts
suspending themselves at the edge of my mouth, ones
I’d love for you to listen to,
to listen as you respond to,
but you cannot.

Archetypal wants and rue about
you, I know I’m not alone in – it all
points to premature departure.
It hurts how willful; I am not enraged or affronted, just
wishing you could have fully felt the cumulative affections
of each soul, every smile you provoked: not without meaning.
I would that words could soak and seep into your
cracks to fill them,
embraces could have pulled them together and tears to seal

The dates on
your headstone:

October 20th, 1972
April 19th, 2014

Not even halfway done, I don’t think.
The mark you made here is
amplified in absence; that’s how we identify reality.
It still is.
You still are.
The lighthouse you shined to your sons in life,
may you also be through sorrow. Continue reading

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Curious About the Place I’d Grown Up In

Curious: about the place I’d grown up in.

Hometown visit
tracing the route I’d take,
juvenile on bicycle or blade,
or foot with my childhood best
friend, sometimes alone, out to the swimming pool;
railroad tracks, sugarhouse,
the park,
all blue
green aground,
chlorine, adventure between
classes; the library,
new as it was to me; infinite
It used to be on a corner across the park on
but now, a neglect of nook within
that field we’d fly kites across. Gone.

The change I
cannot justify. Continue reading

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Sleeping Beside My Overly Affectionate Assassin Cat

Midnight, I fell asleep three hours ago. She takes
advantage of my vulnerability and at
first my mind rejoins myself disoriented, the
grog releasing; its precedent is my knowing that
it’s only her; false alarm, this is not quicksand
nipping good…night (? I don’t know what time it is to her) to my right cheek.
Eyes closed and about-face, another direction, reposition into a cozy
She shows her affront, or persistence … both by
stepping on my face with both
Again, the grog keeps me still and the familiar enables
me to fall asleep until slowly,
I can’t entirely breathe;
a fluff a white is clogging my nostrils. A chuckle, muffled, bemused at the
flashback of a paranoid paperback character –
I barrel-roll to
the left to dislodge my feline assassin friend.
To cuddle with her is to stay up far too late yet to
neglect is to suffer threats to suffocate. I
usually pick sleep,
so she attempts to take me out in the
fashion of Huple’s cat versus
Hungry Joe.
I’m darned if I do.
Darned if I don’t Continue reading

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The Key to Winter

The key to winter is finding meaning in grays, clouds — absence of sky amongst the smog and bare twigs; life in the suspension thereof. Warmth within, despite the biting cold strolling along the sidewalks. Embrace frost, see its intricacies. … Continue reading

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He was at eye level now
and I listened while he spoke, engaged with the ground
low and smooth and easily, said to me
“Sit down and rest awhile.”
He stood, hand anchored light, guided me to a piece of wood fit for sitting
I said,
“I can still carry. I’m not tired.”
“It’s alright,” he said, “sit down and rest awhile.”
So I obliged and let me be lifted a small inch or two
Once placed, I stayed with feet swaying in unison. Continue reading

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Hebrews 12:1-2

Hebrews 12:1-2 on my mind today: Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that … Continue reading

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True Story: Princess

Rain was pouring down and I could barely see where I was running.  Trees crashed behind me, I jumped over some rocks, and then cowered under a fallen trunk.  The ground shook as a dinosaur as big as the house … Continue reading

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True Story: Breakfast

Not much farther, and the floor hadn’t creaked yet.  I made sure to put the soft part of my foot down first, and slow.  Like a cat.  If I went slow like a cat nobody would hear, and I’d have … Continue reading

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~October 2008.  Still pertinent. Nichole Sanderson Caught up in cacophonies of conflict and quarreling Ensnared in strongholds of pretension, insubordination, the vogues of my generation and conjoined; I can’t cut the link between who was and who should be, yet … Continue reading

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The Heart First

January 25, 2012 Nichole Sanderson I’m pummeled by imposters Lord, I know You’re not a scoffer So why are my fears so close to convincing me That You won’t really love Unless I prove my offered place above is well-deserved … Continue reading

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Mormons Are Christian. Aren’t They?

The question has sparked a lot of controversy lately. It even made The Chronicle’s list of 2011’s top 10 religion and politics stories, citing Robert Jeffress’s public assertion that presidential candidate Mitt Romney wasn’t a real Christian. The matter continues … Continue reading

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Trading Meaningful Experience for Social Media Content

Kids say the darndest things.  They’re more perceptive than they get credit for, and their unfamiliarity with (disregard for?) established norms frees them to make unfiltered remarks.  (This is part of why I don’t want children – they will tell … Continue reading

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Writing Conundrums Three and My Solutions Thereof

They say one characteristic of a successful blog is having a consistent topic. Something unique where you can find a niche, hunker down in a dark room with a coffee pot, hype up on heart-palpitating doses of caffeine, and write, … Continue reading

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Bacon – It’s what’s for Christmas

I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I said I’d simply let Christmas pass from my blog without acknowledgement.  Just pretend it didn’t exist since the only Christmas topics I could think of were gripes.   Like self-righteous gripes about the … Continue reading

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Temporarily Aligned Under Noon

Here it is!  The published piece with line-breaks (almost) exactly where I want them! Temporarily Aligned Under Noon Toni Nichole Sanderson September, 2011 Two after noon o’ clock and the vessels are pouring polite bits of something to fill in … Continue reading

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Flaunting the Talent at SLCC

After taking the time to read through and look at all of the writers’ and artists’ contributions to Salt Lake Community College’s Folio publication, I’m amazed at the talent of so many of my fellow students, and I’m grateful to … Continue reading

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