A short poem for Freddie Gray after all charges were dropped. In today’s world, it is almost impossible to hold police accountable for violence against POC.
The following two poems were published in I am Not a Silent Poet.
Isn’t it funny how Sean Spicer showed up at the Emmys last night? I mean,
I’m always up for a good joke and it was a big surprise. I’ll have to give it that.
Did you see Melissa McCarthy’s face? Did you see the faces of the people in the audience?
So nice that someone can make fun of themselves. I guess I’ll have to forget that
he was the mouthpiece for Donald J.Trump. That’s all in the past. Now we can feel sorry
for Sean Spicer. After all, he was discarded like so many others. And you know what?
Even George W is looking good these days. Well, maybe not really.
I think if we’re going to be fair we need to give equal time to Steve Bannon. Why wasn’t
he featured at the Emmys? Maybe because no Melissa McCarthy played him, but I still
think it was a good opportunity. It could have gotten a lot of laughs. He could have – let’s
see, what could he have done? Tap danced? Sang a song? Blackface?
What I’m getting at here is that sometimes it’s good to laugh and sometimes it’s good not to.
You have to choose when something is funny and when it isn’t. Is Sean Spicer endearing
now? Is he relatable because he’s been ousted and is now seen as a quasi-victim? Or, the
bigger question: can we forgive? Maybe we should forgive everyone who has hurt us.
Or maybe we shouldn’t. I think it’s important to remember that we have choices. We can
laugh at something for its shock and surprise. That doesn’t mean we condone that person’s past actions. Or we can sit staunchly and not forgive. And not forget. It’s all about where our heart is at on that particular day.
As she approached the conflict, hoping for a major breakthrough, she remembered all the times
when she walked down hallways and embraced the unknown. There were times when she scrapped her plans. There were times when she whispered to herself to go back. And there were times when she warriored forward.
The protests in St. Louis remind us that grief is not allowed.
You will be crushed if you attempt to have a voice.
Today on the front page someone has slept with the wrong person. The drinking water is still bad. Opioid crisis. Russian probe. Colin Kaepernick is a good guy.
Inappropriate, or funny?
Good morning! I had forgotten to post a few of the photographs I had taken of the Women’s March last January that were published in Up the Staircase Quarterly, and the corresponding poem published by Beatlick Press in their anthology entitled Hers. Here you go…
Blue weather surrounding
Gray fog, locked cars.
You see her.
Red lips breaking
Into dark buildings.