culture · current affairs · poetry

Remain Steadfast

Illusory this ideation of separation
intricate the webs that bind us

Politicians focus on the holes
pander to the vacuous –

Seekers resonate with connection
consciousness raising awareness

Remain steadfast protestors
your vibrations wide-reaching.

(submitted for Reena’s Exploration challenge: prompt the featured image.)


change · culture · current affairs · poetry

We Will Rest Not, George Floyd

Brazen with whiteness
four toads
exerted presence
cuffed and killed a man

“I can’t breathe.”

On the front lawn
of America
stripped of empathy
the leader knelt

Not in prayer –
reverence burns his lips –
he knelt with authority
or his version, venomous

Three looked on
ignored pleas
gloated in the horror
of life’s final gasp

Humanity’s blood
now cold
unleashing a scream
a primal, reptilian rage

The offspring
of oppression
and hate
uncoiling

Like snakes
nest disturbed
rising against injustice
burning down the walls

As The Man weaves
his tale of dissonance
casting lines of division
few listen..

Black Lives Matter
drowns the rhetoric
the breakthrough is complete
we can no longer look away.

(For George Floyd and all the others murdered senselessly at the hands of those commissioned to protect.  Submitted to Reena’s Exploration challenge: breakthrough.  Image my own.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

culture · current affairs · poetry · writing

Write Me an Ending

Ego fiercely defends
status quo, perceives
movement as predator

Soul craves peace,
provoked by the illusion
division the public glide

How do we manage
when progress, stripped bare
displaces understanding?

Alone, I cycle through
these observations
encounter jammed passages

Dismayed by deviancy
messages aimed to exploit
the vulnerable naked and blind.

(For Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: observation.  Image my own.)

childhood · culture · poetry · writing

A Convertible Summer

Summer of ’67
British invasion
Canada claiming 100 –
Dad arrives home
in a powder puff
blue convertible.

Back seat sisters
long hair flapping
bellowing along
with 8-track tunes:
Loving Spoonful
“Do you believe in magic?”

I, barely nine
idolizing a sister
sixteen – a model
with go-go boots
and hippie style

Cottaged at Sauble
muscle cars prowling
oiled bodies lounging
and all eyes lit
on sister, and I
wondering at the draw
made castles in the sand.

Surfing the waves
avoiding the baby
whose brash cries
and quick, chubby legs
keep Mom distracted,
I am observer of the life
Neil Diamond is promising:
“Girl, you’ll be a woman soon.”

Ah, to be 9, in summertime
few the cares, and ideas
like popcorn, burst and pop,
forgotten in each watery plunge
still content to be a child.

(A Convertible Summer first appeared here in June of 2018.  I submit this edited version for Eugi’s Causerie Weekly challenge:  summer.  Image my own.)