Monday, May 9, 2022

Alternate title: Final Étude des Liberté

In the America I knew you loved me

But that was years ago

Before we saw the future

Before we were wise enough to know

That it had all been an illusion

One that in many prefer to stay

But I could never exist

If we were to continue that way

Some dreams are meant to be broken

Just to shake ourselves awake

Few things can be truly healing:

Surgical wounds; unpacking heartache.

Once this morning fog has lifted

And the world has enough data to go

I’m here to pick up my pieces

Of destruction unintentionally sewn

Pacific Northwest Ramblings

Cascadia

We climb into the cloud forest–
Sleepy trees draped in moss blankets
Slumbering to bird song lullabies
Dreaming of snow covered melodies
Melting into symphonies of spring


Thank you for taking the time to read this post! It first appeared on Twitter here.

Bones – A Poem

Content warning: may be triggering to those that are experiencing emotional or traumatic struggles. Reader discretion is advised.

Photo by Sebastian Hages on Unsplash

She started smoking again
Feeling bones by finger curls
And the nauseating hunger
For someone to understand
The hard lumps under skin
And the satisfaction of a visible scapula
Under the crushing, suffocating, smothering
Weight of ten pounds
Against the pull of Earth’s gravitational force
When the greatest ally against one condition
Becomes the pain of another
Hoping that at the end of this cigarette
She will find the cremated remains
Of her claim to have it all under control


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A Lesson Never Learned – A Poem

This poem first appeared on Curensea after being written in 2007. I have made a few minor edits.

I chose this poem based on many thoughts coming up for me over my lifetime while living in the United States. I grew up in Virginia and found it strange that I could live next to a Holocaust survivor and then move to a town with an active KKK chapter other kids at the elementary school nonchalantly talked to me about their parents being members of. My parents explained what that meant when I asked. Same with the Neo-nazi rallies in Yorktown, Virginia – you know, that place where we apparently “won the Revolutionary War”. What’s so revolutionary about it anymore now that you allow those kinds of rallies there? But Virginia did. My parents felt powerless against it because the courts ruled in their favor on the grounds of Freedom Of Speech and Freedom Of Assembly and that was used to argue for social tolerance of intolerance. Now, here we are, being asked to tolerate violence against each other as that too becomes normalized.

A statue face from St. Mary’s cemetery Missoula, MT, photo by Lo Potter

A Lesson Never Learned

It came up through the floorboards,
Zyklon B reaching forward through time
Ripping at our throats,
Forming itself around our nostrils
condensing into blue ice, after being trapped in the cold
of existence.
This depressive state of humanity
Seeming only to slumber in its death
Released the gas upon itself,
Using the world as its chamber
Many can claim their innocence
-besides-
Innocence through ignorance is the best kind
While dictators commence genocidal rampages
Using ill-earned power to rape a people
destroy their very creation of a God,
And yet, for those who are suffering:

The strongest woman I (n)ever met
sat crying at the grand opening of the Holocaust Museum
She surveyed the surrounding young people
Generations too young to remember or know what
She Survived
Walking through in awe of their own misunderstandings
She looked back without a single failed memory
Her arm exposed so everyone could see:
the vining rose tattoo that grew
out of the numbers that changed her life forever


Thank you for reading this poem today. The comments section is reserved for your thoughts. Moderating is only for preventing spam/trolls – I approve as quickly as possible and approval is only needed once to post without moderation on this website.