Discharge the gun –
protection a vessel
through which our depths
are undefined…adrift
Fear is a burrower
wears a false crown
births loss
trusts danger
Hearts beg,
amid this trigger-readiness
for a guardian – unafraid
to court this meaningless
Futility unchecked –
to study productive options
unimaginable in the current
state of chaos on repeat.
(Art my own)
Whose Earth is this?
ask the trees reaching
to kiss mountainous sky.
Who cares for her?
ask the creatures all,
grateful for her bounty.
Machines rumble
forests fall – a stand
for progress answers none.
(Image my own. Poem first appeared here May of 2021)
So much I want to say,
yet the oppression of opposition
stomps heavily on my airways
cutting off the flow
Daughter of a trans father
mother contemplating MAiD –
embroiled in controversy,
I see only injustice
Cannot fathom the hatred
the railing against books
and glamour, and science,
misappropriation of christianity
How am I supposed to grieve;
take up arms for those I love,
when I am silenced before I speak
judgments cast without a thought?
If I could have a word,
if anyone would listen
I would share, perhaps insight
into the lives of secrets held
Describe how hearts wilt
beneath cruelty of suppression
how torn apart we become
ignorance voiding authenticity
I would tell you of the horrors
that dwelt within our homes
the fear of discovery, of rejection
how ugly it all felt….until
Education offered explanation
and in that opening
we saw potential to climb out
from our shadowy existence
embrace a life in which our love
is neither tainted nor deviant
and tell me please, as I try to listen
how such hopefulness is sin, after all.
(Image my own)
Endless turmoil
Mother’s tears
crusting over
Focus on children
strength to carry on
future a hopeful light
Who can measure loss
justify the tragedy?
Generations will toil
Damage always outweighs
rationale for war…
A nine-year-old skips
along the centre line
of an abandoned street
imagination empowered
by sunshine blue skies
Till the low rumble
of aircraft startles her
and she runs for cover
praying to an absent God
to take her now, young
heart too bruised to carry on.
A fifteen-year-old huddles
in a dank underground corner
already violated by a war
she did not ask for,
shamed by her body’s betrayal
praying for a death more forgiving
A mother holds her baby close
tremors such an indelible part of life now
grasps for a God she once believed in
sees the vacancy in adolescent eyes
the joylessness of her weeping child
prays for a way out of this hell.
Searching for the alchemy
to transform this chaos –
Do they understand depravity,
those who dwell in exurbs,
blinded by their own opulence?
Children are dying, pawns
in a political sham – I know
we’re tired, but now is not
the time to sleep.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine)
Look at us building fences
pretending we have differences
Do we not hunger the same
hunt in the same places?
Do we not strive with equal intent
build our nests with the same ferocity?
Forgo passion for survival?
Let us stop pretending
Let down these walls
admit to our vulnerabilities
align our purposes, and
fight a more fearsome foe.
(Fences first appeared here in March, 2018. Image my own)
How can I capture
the essence of loss?
Sunshine scant
darkness falling
No image/words
stark enough
to serve as allegory
for evil taking lives.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Prevarication
the new hegemony
Lawlessness mocks
governing principles
Body of democracy
faltering beneath weight
archaic ideologies –
dangerous take on leadership.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Ignore the dead
the ocean of grief
capsizing humanity
Keep bailing on reality
conspiracy lacks an oar
we drown without compassion
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
One Woman's Quest 