Tag: read poetry

Zoom-ing with Students, by Sophia Scoppettone

When I speak to the kids on Zoom,
I try not to be filled with gloom,
To not think about
How I’m filled with doubt
That I will see them any time soon.

Instead I just try to be there,
To be present and show that I care,
To hear what they say,
Right now, on this day,
And act as though I’m unaware.

Unaware that I may not see them at all.
Unaware that we might not go back in the fall.
Unaware that their year of kindergarten is done.
Yes, I’m unaware so we can try to have fun.

We talk, and I learn:

Millie read a chapter book all on her own,
And Rowan is building a treehouse at home,
And Nathan works out with his grandma each day.
Mateo was shy and didn’t know what to say,

But he showed me the Bible he told me he reads,
And Xavier showed me the tadpoles he feeds,
And Abby showed me her scrapbook, which describes
How she went to Disney and rode on lots of rides.

And So:

So I don´t tell the kids
All the worries and doubts.
When they ask me how I am,
I say: ¨Great! Now tell me about…¨

And then I just listen,
Nod, and ask ¨Why?¨ or ¨How?¨
Yes, students keep me focused
On what´s here and now.

f r e e d o m, by Laura Minning

She extends Her arms
embrace me
with kindness and compassion,
but i never thank Her.

She is my mother,
my sister,
my friend.

She allows me to choose
my own path
and make my own mistakes
without passing judgement
upon me.

And how do i repay Her
(for Her benevolence)?
…by taking Her for granted.

For if she ever became wounded
or hurt in any way,
(by resistance or tyranny)
…who would take Her place?

(She has always been there for me
–at my side,
for as long as I can remember
…so who could take Her place?)

No one…
…and I would be lost.

~laura minning
excerpt from “sunburst”
published by xlibris
c. may 2005

When We were Birds, by Chanchal Vyas

Once upon a time when
you and me were birds,
we measured the vast
expanse of skies from
this inch to that corner.
we have seen shifts in
seasons under the gloss
and silhouettes of our wings.
we chirped and tweeted
with other fellow ones
over the clouds
over the mountains
over the course of sea.
we inked paradise
all over our little bodies
so when we flattered
them feathers we effused
the airs with a delightful
music and played on loop
an only track we by-hearted
when we were born

Out of a thousand things
that we would be
Why were we birds only?

Because,
Birds do not cry
They are a happy thing
we deserved to be
of all thousand things.

Letter to Solitude, by Jiji Schemann

Lettre à la solitude

Quand tu es née, on ne se comprenait probablement pas. Je te parlais sachant bien que tu étais là en moi, Je tentais de t’écouter de l’intérieur mais ce n’est qu’après quelques mois que je réussi à me connecter avec toi et recouvrer le sens de mes émois.
Tu m’as donné quelques coups tu parfois, mais seulement parce que tu étais en quête d’un espace temps, un endroit où écoute et protection feraient foi d’un foyer légitime, un genre de toit
Et maintenant tu vois, j’ai fait quelques échographies de mon surmoi, J’ai tendu l’oreille vers ce cœur qui bat, Et j’ai saisi la valeur de ta présence ici-bas
Chère Solitude, saches que je serai toujours là pour toi Et un jour tu t’émanciperas de tout ce qui, et ceux qui autour de toi font tout un cinéma De ce que tu es, qui tu seras, tu leur offriras un fier schéma De ce qu’est être Soi, à minima.

Letter to Solitude

When you were born, we probably did not understand each other. I was talking to you knowing that you were there inside me, I tried to listen to you from the inside, but it was only after a few months That I was able to connect with you and regain the meaning of my emotions.
You gave me a few blows sometimes, But only because you were looking for a space of time, A place where listening and protection would be a sign of a legitimate home, a shelter to shine.
And now you see I’ve done some ultrasounds of my superego; I’ve turned my ear to this beating heart, And finally grasped the value of your presence here below…
Dear Solitude, know that I will always be there for you And one day you will emancipate yourself from all these, and all those who around you Will make a whole cinema of what you are, who you will be, you will offer them a proud schema Of what it is to be your own Self, with no dilemma

Carta a la soledad

Cuando naciste, probablemente no nos entendíamos. Te hablé sabiendo que estabas ahí en mí, intenté escucharte desde dentro, Pero sólo después de unos meses pude conectar contigo Y recuperar de mis emociones su significado
Me diste algunos golpes a veces, pero sólo porque buscabas un espacio de tiempo, Un lugar donde la escucha y la protección darán fe de un hogar legítimo, una refugio.
Y ahora verás, he hecho algunos ultrasonidos de mi superego, He vuelto mi oído a este corazón que late, Y he captado el valor de tu presencia aquí abajo…
Querida Soledad, sabe que siempre estaré ahí para ti Y un día te emanciparás de todo eso, y los que te rodean harán todo un cinema De lo que eres, de lo que serás, les ofrecerás un orgulloso esquema De lo que es ser « Yo », sin dilema

about saying goodbye to my grandmother by Lauren Burstein

Instagram: @laurenrachel414

it wasn’t possible.
in DNA, in gestures
you remain.
your dark European years,
now woven, abstract haunts.
saying goodbye is a social construct,
because
my vision of you
experience of you
transcends celestial orbits.
even when you’re lost,
i always find you
in nursery rhymes,
in chicken soup
in my mother’s face.
without a goodbye there is no closure,
but love moves in open space.

Marina Dymchenko Lily In The Darkness, by Marina Dymchenko

A peaceful Lily in the darkness
Was looking up to big bright Moon
Whose light so cold and calm and harmless
Was making Lily almost swoon.

It bathed in it, it awed, admired
Until a random someone asked:
“Are you not even little tired
That with that Moon you’re noticed last?

That no one looks under the feet
When beauty is so high above,
And do you think you really need
To stay down there and wait for love?

The Lily did not frown or fret,
It looked around and softly said:
“I am not here to be compared,
I am not here to fight or please,
My light is there to be shared,
To softly flow in silent peace,
I don’t need anyone to notice
How hard or not it is to grow,

I’m NOT ALONE creating all this,
For it’s Moon’s light that makes me glow.”
The lesson is – we’re all in this together,
And each of us has our path and pace,
We’re meant to thrive, not ask how, why, or whether,
To shine our light in OWN perfect ways.

Lyrics While on an Edible on the Plane Back From California, by Siena Facciolo

I’ll go to visit you
In the green fields of my youth
Your skin as soft as flowers
That dot the hillside

My mother she will hold
Your hand until she knows
That you will safely make it
Through her memories

I remember summer treats
Blueberries between my teeth
Raw cane sugar in a little bowl
Whole-oat oatmeal by the window

I can’t recall the sound
Of your voice while we sat around
The dining room table full
Of food we had to share

I loved that magnet on your fridge
Of Jesus on a tie die binge
I’d get him down to his underwear
Then dress him up again

The Siena-colored kitchen floor
the swinging swanging screen porch door
Your many-layered pantry shelves
Your late-life rebellion

I’ll go to visit you
In my mother’s arms at night
Your skin as soft as flowers
Your eyes hold futures bright

Mother Earth Resists, by Lisa Makarchuk

For money, for greed
We’re encouraged to dig
So we fracked
And we hacked
And we burned
We cracked her veneers
Penetrated her shades,
Her shrouds and her veils
Destroyed many valleys
Killed her trees, animals
Birds, and the bees
Excavated and gouged
Piercing her rocky armours
Unfreezing her innards
Tunneling thru her veins
Hollowing out her lodes
Mining her richness
Hidden for eons
Exposing delicate rhythms
As we unearthed and raped
While stalking her body
Destroying her balance.

She stormed in protest
with warnings to change our ways
exposed us to
scorching heat
weather extremes
devastating tornadoes
overwhelming gales.
She turned down her covers
bared lands into deserts
released plagues upon us.
Is it markets or life?
That is our choice.
The tipping point has arrived
Have you chosen your side?

Bottom Of The Bottle, by Laye Da Writer

With this last drop I know the memories disappear

Going a step further to erase the fear

Depression is usually the killer

But these toxins are a different filler

Not living for tomorrow just want the now

I’m off a Fifth ready to ride out on the town

Sip after sip just chilling my veins

Call it what you want but with more I release my chains

I’ll keep going no need to encourage, slight work

Get help, I don’t care to I need to see where the evils lurk

Functional I always am way too much to lose so I proceed

A brick wall waiting my arrival destined from the planted seed

Has anyone stepped in to intervene the pain

Actually nope they just watch as I fall below the curve not accessing the strain

Numb to “are you ok”

Dulled by “itll get better”

Scarred from “the only way to get better is to talk about it”

Well let me tell you first hand this liquid has cured

Cured more than any person with a degree could fathom

Won’t even come close to understand why I do what I feel is natural

Remember the fifth I mention hell I’ve gone through my 3rd and its only been 2 hours

DARE ME TO DRIVE!?!?!

Give me my keys I no longer wish to sit around waiting for help

Rather than wait ill just go find it

May hit a couple of bumps on the way

Hell one of those bumps may create my brighter day

You wanted the insights of my mind well here they are

Now deal with the monster that comes

Tame him you wouldn’t dare

Man it’s getting bad the night just started and he’s not stopping

It’s feels great not to feel at all

Dead to emotions when I get this way and I have the dark light mixture swirling in this bottle

If they ever find me flipped over somewhere know I hid my friend under the seat

-Laye Da Writer

Realize, by Ernest Roberson

If I could, I’d write for you a rainbow.
And splash it with all the colors of God.
And hang it in the window of your being.
So that each new God’s morning.
Your eyes would open first……
To hope and promise.
If I could, I’d wipe away your tears.
And hold you close forever in shalom.
But God never promised I could write a rainbow,
Never promised I could suffer for you,
Only promised I could love you,
That I do.

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