Saturday, May 30, 2020

Ink (and Stitch) Lived Horrors into Armor

This world is a terror storm
with sweetness and beauty
at its heart. Lived and embraced
(and fought) terror can be turned
into words that grow wings.

Melancholy isn’t always bad,
in ink—
it’s safe practice for living.

I believe I can.
So, I will
ink, ink
ink (and stitch) horrors
into armor.



 for Poets and Storytellers United (Writers’ Pantry #22: Onward, June)

Wednesday, May 27, 2020

Post-apocalyptic Fiction Wasn’t Always Current Events

In the old days, customers were becoming
store scum, leaving a thin thread of thick hatred,
virtually dueling for toilet paper.
In the old days, random kindness
spread like a needed plague, infecting

friends and strangers, reclaiming humanity.

Post-apocalyptic fiction is now current events.


Yesterday’s News, by Shelle Kennedy

- the title and the last line of this Sevenling (thank you, Ron.! And you were right about the addictive properties of the form) came from a meme the NYC Public Library sent at the beginning of the pandemic—I guess if was sort of funny… way back then.
- for Poets and Storytellers United (Weekly Scribblings #21: Anagrams. Where a stunning [and rather modest] hostess invites everyone to write new poetry or prose using anagrams—a word, phrase, or sentence formed from another by rearranging its letters. I chose customers/store scum and hatred/thread.

Saturday, May 23, 2020

De-light in Nature

“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand…” – Albert Einstein

Art-filled
magic grows
out of weeping
willow trees and wild
hearts.

In
all this
darkness, the familiar
lush of a hyacinth
shines.

In de-light,
the dandelion
sees her dark.


for Poets and Storytellers United (Writers’ Pantry #21: Change of Plans)

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

The Bedside Song

“And all the winds go sighing,
for sweet things dying.”
 – Christina Rossetti
“Your heart breaks and breaks, when you have to be the one calling someone to let them know they should speak to their loved one on the phone before they go on a ventilator. In the air, the unspoken words always scream, “Tell them that you love them. You might not get another chance. And love should be known.” – Grief Counselor

Seemingly empty
bedsides are kept full by hearts,
singing, You are loved,
you are loved, you are so loved,
and you will forever be.


The Death of Lady MacBeth, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
for Poets and Storytellers United (Weekly Scribblings #20: Undoubtedly Rossetti)

Sunday, May 17, 2020

Ungrateful A-holes

I stood in line in front of the hospital, doing my best to stay six feet away from someone who felt the need to scream into their phone. I was listening to a book, so ignoring the noise wasn’t difficult. Then the phrase, “useless pricks handing out masks and sanitizer” pulled me out of the story.

Caught off guard by the speaker’s lack of respect for people risking their health and lives so that we risk our own a bit less, I found myself facing the person, and saying, “Wow!” very loudly (I blame my loudness on my headphones *cough*).

The person ended the call and took a couple of steps towards me. Her face was flushed. For an insane second, I thought I was about to get punched right in the face mask. But no, the individual simply said, “I know, right?” and went on to explain why the hospital staff screening patients at the door were a “plague of useless, socialists getting in the way of things.”

I looked past the speaker, stared at the nurse taking people’s temperatures, and said, “The world is just full of useless and ungrateful assholes.” The person actually nodded, as if I were agreeing with them (Some people’s children!).

The nurse didn’t smile or wink, but I think her eyes softened above her mask.

  via

Sunday, May 10, 2020

Love Is Energy

Yes, I will always feel you. For love is energy, and like the purest magic, “energy can neither be created nor destroyed—only converted from one form of energy to another.” But no, no physics (meta or otherwise) can predict the future shape of our feels: only words and acts tell.

To feel me,
love, just remember
ours is one
Heart no one but us
can tear to pieces.


for Y, my favorite physicists in the whole wide world (and the mad soul who dared me to turn the law of conservation of energy into something magical and romantic)

linked to Poets and Storytellers United (Writers’ Pantry #19: Birthing Hope)


Wednesday, May 6, 2020

Knowing Love in the Time of COVID-19

A month or so ago, I read an article that said “YOU are your safest sex partner”. My first thought was, Sure, especially if you’re hygienic about it. After a few chuckles (what can I say? I have the sexual humor of a hormonally overactive teenager) and further reading, that proved the article was not a joke, I began to think, I guess they might be on to something.

Then, my eyes glimpsed the headline, “Masturbation is all the rage in New York City through the coronavirus pandemic”, imagined the expressions the statement would put on some faces I know, and I began forwarding the link while laughing like a maniac. The poem bits that follow were inspired by my more serious reaction to the wonderful piece of pandemic street art accompanying the article.

via
Love
knows barriers
can’t stop knowing
what true love feels
like.

true love knows
barriers can’t stop
us loving

our love knows
barriers can’t stop
knowing love

for Poets and Storytellers United (Weekly Scribblings #18: Art (and turmoil, it seems) Begets Art, birth words inspired by Pandemic Street Art from around the world)

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