LA GUERRE

folks cry out with

hearts full of grief

this war is like a thief

taking away any & all:

the young, and old~

men, women, ‘n’ children

families torn- separated

left wondering if they will

ever be re-united again

this war brings death

many bodies lying ’bout

like nev’r before— woe.

#LAGUERRE

Inspired by Chinua Achebe’s Collected poems~ poem picked:

’Air Raid

It comes so quickly

the bird of death

from evil forests of Soviet technology

A man crossing the road

to greet a friend

is much too slow.

His friend cut in halves

has other worries now

than a friendly handshake

at noon.’

Are you two

always that happy?

a neighbor asked

suspiciously one day.

To the outsider

the voyeur

the consumer

of antisocial media

that exalts

appearances

and polaroid moments

to the detriment

of real relationships

that bleed and scar

and therefore believes

that nothing is as it seems;

that screams loud

and often without

ever listening to

the other such that

real communication

is becoming archaic

and truth a word

with no meaning;

to these onlookers

our love

seems exaggerated

photoshopped

for Facebook

or Instagram,

public consumption

uppermost

in our minds;

but we are truly blessed

to have found love

that makes suffering

pain and heartache

something shared

and therefore less

burdensome;

to smile not just for

a camera but rather

because

our hearts are full

of joy in our love and

the life we have built

together;

to lay quietly and hear

our hearts beat

as one

holding hands

while legs entwine

like puppies

as we fall asleep.

Where I does not exist, nor you,

So close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

So close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.*

*https://www.goodreads.com/quotes/121705-sonnet-xvii-i-do-not-love-you-as-if-you

When I was sick and lay a-bed

I had my cell phone by my head,

And my laptop beside me lay

To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so

I watched my favorite TV show,

With characters with different skills,

And a villain whom the hero kills;

And sometimes sent my friend a text,

Scrolled up and down on Facebook next;

Or brought my selfie camera out,

With Snapchat filters all about.

My attention span was short and still

I had a lot of time to kill,

And so I spent my waisted brain

In the virtual land of Technoplane.

By Lily Hawkins

Inspired by Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Counterpane”

This beating heart, so broken and incapable

Of warming this frail frame, could, if it were fit

And full once again of earnest longing,

So brighten your days and visit your twilight visions

That you would crave the skill of mending,

Alas I fear it cannot be—it is hidden—

It shies from you.

(Inspired by Keats, “This living hand”)

Lost wandering in a golden wood,

two paths lie ahead,

and make that simple choice I would,

but alas: it's the very choice I dread.

For choice itself is like a fly,

a timid brush and it's no more,

but making one often feels as dry,

as lying upon a desert shore.

It freezes me, immobile,

fear strangles my voice,

renders me unable

to make that simple choice.

And no matter how hard I try,

no matter what I do,

no matter how loud I cry,

those paths still lie like new.

I start to think there's no way out

from this horrid, wretched place,

but as I put more and more faith in doubt,

i see the solution, face to face.

I just not let this choice engulf me,

I must not let it win,

for if I choose, I will be free,

like I was, and I can begin again.

I'm leaving my body

the costumes are borrowed

from the changing room of life

my face belongs to a foreign person

for the moment

someone's invisible hand

removes my life

as a used prop

I'm leaving

to start playing

in the new mask

inspired by Edward Hirsch

In D.C. did a miracle

A harmonious Congress decree

The Potomac, sacred and clear, ran

Past leaders so valuable to Man

With wisdom greater than the sea.

So with fierce resolve and much sweat

They toiled to fight a dangerous threat

Together they outsmarted many divisive foes

And kept citizens inspired and on their toes

All cheered and vowed never to forget the past

The time honor triumphed over vice at last 

(Kubla Khan)