Bringing In New Poetry

It's been a few days since I posted, and this won't be the only post today (hopefully!)  Through everything that this month has thrown at us I feel we are getting stronger for it.  We are still doing #vss we are attending online open mics, we are writing posting, selling books, and supporting each other.  So for this I give thanks to you, and the strength you've shown.  Ase'

It is morning

which makes the day.

Shade cast,

confrontation cornered,

soul so callous, couches 

became safe havens.

Mornings made from 

firm boundaries because

crazy, manic, and out of 

control anger 

can become 

a comfortable pillow 

in eye blinks.

We think midnight 

where fights and royal 

rumbles erupt. Laid out 

and displayed for neighboring 

ears and opinion.

But it is the morning,

rising like sun parting clouds 

or pandemic parting parents;

it is heir apparent

that people aren’t participating 

positively

in this partnership.

Good thing about mornings,

it is beginning.

Gives time for rest, reflection, and 

planning.

It is morning, un-laid 

heads at rest, finally 

rise.
_________________________________________

#Mittens,

masquerading as helpers

are held up

by grand government 

honchos--

“You are not gloves!”

they glare, a tenseness

in their throat.

“This is a pandemic!

Today, we practice 

digit distance”

________________________________________ 

The possibility is 

still beautiful. Still 

unknown, great care

conceived like 

virgin births.  Born from 

necessity’s pain,

heart go out to open 

wounds and traumatized 

trembling hands.  We 

hold them tight.

Steadying the suffering 

for life ain’t fair.

We press for recovery

with speed and accuracy 

even if minds are mush

and bodies beset with 

addiction--

we. don’t. give. up.