Another one! We are, yet again, undone. The only thing that seems to come out of these tragedies are the usual talking heads pretentiously wallowing in their fifteen minutes of fame.
The hands deep in their pockets also move the trap between their beady little eyes as they mouth platitudes and lamentations in the form of thoughts and prayers. All of which has become white noise because power takes precedent.
So, we continue to live under sinister skies raining death with nowhere to hide. Hoards of lost souls that will never again see morning. They will never again set eyes on arcs of grass bejeweled by dew reflecting twilight.
It is up to us to erase the platitudes and become a part of the solution. The way we do this is with our vote! These are the things they don’t tell us often enough.
For dVerse Poets Pub being hosted by Msjadeli where the topic is “How many will it take” as it relates to gun violence and mass shootings. To participate or just read go here.
I never could see my life without him But there stood this broken trust
Shoving past all that I had come to know would only lead to regrets piled atop regrets – never again feeling safe
As great as this love was I knew me It would not end well So, I let it go in the most awful way Never to see, or speak to him for ever Time is not always the healer she purports to be Years later when we could again speak He asked. I explained. That was not about you, I said. That was about keeping that thread I was hanging by intact.
Pat R 6/22/21
Isn’t it pretty to think so. –The Sun Also Rises (1926). Ernest Hemingway
Over at dVerse we are to write a poem based on a chosen quote from Hemingways work. I chose the above.
Linking to dVerse Poets Pub where Lisa is hosting Poetics -“One true sentence” . To read other entries go here
It is especially windy today, and a bit cold. It feels like a leftover winter day. The pear tree is up in arms. Limbs are being tossed about and there are blossoms everywhere. They are on the car, the steps, the yard next door, the sidewalk and the short japanese maple. It was weird seeing falling blossoms perch on the maple’s leaves, if only for a moment.
The toddler next door is in his front yard with his grandmother. I pause to watch him from the porch as I wave hello to the grandmother. Why are they even outside on a day like this, I wonder. Cabin fever perhaps.
He is fascinated and is trying to catch blossoms in midair. Of course, he never really catches any. Yet, at the present moment, he is very much in the present and there is fun to be had.
spring wind cuts a path
carpet of pear blossoms with
For dVerse Poets Pub where Frank is hosting and the prompt is… ” the present moment”. To join in or just read go here