
22 Friday Nov 2024

22 Friday Nov 2024

14 Thursday Nov 2024
I see her, red hair aflame,
paint flying.
Swaths of blackest black,
gashes of scarlet–
blood, bone, ash, scorch,
ochre of marrow.
Enough words, make image.
Shock the system with truth,
Pandora’s box wide,
coffins nesting
and thrown open, skulls screaming out,
souls of generation upon generation of women:
This will not stand.
This will not stand.
No!
11 Monday Nov 2024
Posted in generations, human, poems, poetry
I’m puzzled by where we find ourselves,
puzzled, grieving, sickened.
When did hate root itself in our choices?
And divisiveness and defensiveness,
offendedness, opinion and othering,
fragile egos and rigidity,
become the stuff of a collective north star?
This illness snakes through my own family–
microcosm macrocosm–
its source generations back, before mental memory.
Remaining in body.
Remains,
a cemetery, until recognized,
named.
In this moment, and they do keep changing,
rearranging,
I see us collectively entranced
staring, a shadow Narcissus, into the dark side
of a mesmerizing mirror image
in polluted waters.
What are we watching? Reading?
Ingesting, binging, consuming online,
in media and from around us?
Which likes? Which feeds?
What groups, cohorts?
And who actually pulls the invisible strings behind?
Where’s the money go by addiction
to corporate feed?
We’re being factory farmed.
We are stuck until we can each awaken
to the worst in ourselves,
seeing there is no other, no
out there,
no them.
It is we. This is our sickness.
Which seeds will we water in ourselves?
In one another?
Hate?
Or love?
Pick up the phone,
talk with a friend, remember
sound of voice, warmth of body,
land holding us up,
and that breath
is finite.
06 Wednesday Nov 2024
Today, a darkness.
I turn on lights though they’re unneeded.
I pull up blankets though it’s hardly cold.
My mind moves out in dips and turns,
nothing compared to the torrents in the wider world.
No sense to be made, these waters wash over me.
Now, this is how it is.