Regardless of caring, not caring, the man carrying a burden on his back, is what I turn away from, to hide my face or my shame or recognize the fact that ours is a country, where self destroys, forgetting not itself, but others who share burden of killing, mitigating that one bit. Killing poverty.
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Author: Best Poetry Online
It’s ironic how we have learned to live with a contradiction, like this, a misstep, blunder a failure in the expected; how we adjust so easily to whatever comes along. Snow today isn’t news, rather a warning, or a reminder that incidental things, like this, are beyond us we can plan and manage, supervise and…
I have now come to believe racism lives more deeply within us than we know. It thrums below the surface of daily sound with a vibrato that matches sexism along with ignorance. We can spend hours escaping into other worlds and balance our tongues on songs of harmony But we have to suss out the…
Your own street number, front door, gate, garden View of something other than piled trash, dark alley A sanctuary, a nest, a home No You don’t get that Room to stretch out, companionship of a cat Freedom from fear at 2 a.m. You don’t get that You are here to cook our burgers, clean our…
Under the aegis of Joey Aiuppa (Doves Aiuppa, Joey The Doves Aiuppa, Mourning Doves Aiuppa) No one could be killed (whacked) in Elmwood Park So you had to get a scumbag (mope, numb-nuts) Across Harlem Avenue in order to whack him. You couldn’t even bring…
Eternally bereft of Anything like the Feeling I had when We were walking Hand in hand on The beach, nothing But the sound of The ocean and the Sense we were Entering a new time. The post The Feeling | Emily Hargrave appeared first on Best Poetry Online. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
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