I am so tired of waiting,
Aren’t you,
For the world to become good
And beautiful and kind?
Let us take a knife
And cut the world in two –
And see what worms are eating
At the rind.
(February is Black History Month. Image my own.)
I am so tired of waiting,
Aren’t you,
For the world to become good
And beautiful and kind?
Let us take a knife
And cut the world in two –
And see what worms are eating
At the rind.
(February is Black History Month. Image my own.)
Faint at the sight of needles
a squeamish gene, I’m sure
Suck it up, adult self admonishes
Child looks away, breath held
Sixty-two years its been thus
too many pokes to count
And now there is new promise
a vaccine to ward off the virus
Hope reduced to one tiny vial
believe me, this sleeve’s rolling up.
(Written for Reena’s Exploration challenge. Image is the prompt.)
Oil glistens
contaminates
drinking water
250 evacuated
25 years of
boil-water advisory
an elder recites
and now this
We’re not animals,
adolescents rally
but ears turn away
government wheels rust
Neskantaga First Nation
want to go home
to live with dignity
know their human rights
Do they know
a .05% increase
in corporate taxes
would suffice
For the 73%
of First Nations
also lacking
this basic need
Acknowledge
prioritize
address
It’s all they ask.

(Written for Reena’s Exploration Challenge #168. Image and information sourced from :
ctvnews.ca
and Government of Canada: https://canadians.org/fn-water)
Silent aftermath
sanctity violated
nuance exploded –
Will democracy endure?
What grows beneath the ashes?
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknuston. Image my own.)
This year the plague came
and I blamed the wind
for carrying destruction
and I blamed the sun
for its ineptitude
and the rain,
no friend of mine,
only served to drown
my expectations.
Lockdown
and social distance
masks and antiseptics
how was a soul
to survive?
Pushing 2020
out the door
certain relief
would follow
but change is not
a date on the calendar
a release of circumstance
I turned inward
faced the gloom
and found a spark
forgave the weather
the virus, the news
In 2021, I woke up…
(For Reena’s Exploration challenge: I woke up in 2021… Image my ow
Is there an itinerary for this lockdown?
I watch as engagements line up
Adventure-seekers, eager to connect
willingly engage, purchase a ticket
How I would give my life to be a part
hop aboard a sailing ship, escape
Except disability has recalled my passport;
I am a vehicle without fuel, grounded
Disappointment and I watch as
familiar faces venture out –
a friend’s brother
an old crush
a high school acquaintance
While envy reminds me
I’m always an outsider
Sensibility wakes me up
This boat I’m missing out on
is no luxury cruise ship, but
a dalliance with death –
I surrender to isolation
count the casualties.
( Image my own.)
A preacher dominates
six o’clock news
megaphone voice
commanding protest
mask-less hordes roar
A young repairman
offs his mask with distaste
claims it’s all a hoax,
the cure is withheld
a ploy to control –
read it on the internet.
A friend whose wisdom
and words have inspired
confesses she’ll not accept
vaccination, as her life
is in God’s hands.
And from behind a curtain
of despair, I observe
as words, like snakes
gather on my front step
nest in a writhing menace
The virus’ venom
a poison I’m not sure
I can defeat
And what am I to do
when abstinence from public life
makes me conveniently invisible
and fear that if I speak up
will reveal a truth I cannot bear
that the devout, the young, the compassionate
care not a wink for the likes of me.
Remaining silhouette
of a leader –
hero was expected –
instead, hit with quirkiness
Unaffected by indifference
accepting his alibis
his ego bloodies
we remain strangers
Ride along
as hive buzzes lies
he sulks at refusals
commands attention
Reputation shredded
still holds appeal
gobsmacked intelligence –
and so it goes on.
(Image my own.)
Roses, hydrangeas
we are as flowers
in this garden called life
Who appointed gardeners
to pronounce weeds
to extinguish breath?
Murder is murder
we are all fallen
paradise suffering blight.
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)
I see a nation
uniting for a purpose
their pride as buckshot
forging new paths for justice
repairing gaps – room to breathe.
(Image my own)