A Pile Of Tuesdays – 3rd September 2026

~ shaun tenzenmen 
This stone is a memory
    and memories are not truth.
I carry these stones in a box,
    dripping nostalgia all over my shoes.*

The box fills faster than I can make room,
    old rocks settle down below.
Some get stuck between my toes,
    as I limp toward another show.

It's already Tuesday again.
    I've got a pile of Tuesdays stashed away,
wearing themselves down to sand,
    rattling the box with every shake.

Running my finger along the edges
    for the last time—I'll know,
I'll divine them across the floor
    and see what remains.

Written for dVerse Poetics – stone
* – appropriated from Makenna Karas

Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

First, A Hard Winter Training

Downtime is for preparation
Life is not made for part-timers
Half hearted makes a soft foundation
Easily destroyed by bad designers

14 thoughts on “A Pile Of Tuesdays – 3rd September 2026”

  4. This stone is a memory
    and memories are not truth.
    I carry these stones in a box,
    dripping nostalgia all over my shoes.

    Wonderful opening Shaun. Yes, memories are living elements that show themselves now and again!

    Hank

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  5. At first it was a mystery, Shaun — “a pile of Tuesdays”? Hmmm. But as the poem went on I realized the “stones in a box” were poems, and every Tuesday (at dVerse?), as the old ones rattle away, another memory becomes fashioned into stone, a poem drops. Am I wrong? I hope not because that last stanza is a gem,

    “I’ll know,
    I’ll divine them across the floor
    and see what remains”

    which I take to mean the culling of poems, taking stock of what has been formed from the seabed of your imagination. A pile of Tuesdays indeed. 🙂

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    1. Lovely interpretation Dora. I like it. Yes, the Tuesday was connected to dVerse in my mind, though the idea is taken from the same article as the 4th line by Makenna Karas. It seemed interesting to focus down on a specific day and have the reader focus down on it.

      For me, the stones in the box are memories, worn away over time. But poems are memories too so your analogy is clear and appropriate. My idea is based around my blog, being a place where I am trying to get all my memories down on digital paper, while there is still some speck of sand of them left in my box 👍

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