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ISS55-59-95Poems
September 17th – 18th, 2020 The Tourists are Attracted with Smiles, Laughter, and Photographs Among Each Other The Men in Blue Vests – They Spy Art, They Glimpse it, & See it Spreading like Wildfire They Think it’s Message is Meant to be Contained The People in the Neighborhood – They Distinguish them as Individual Landmarks The Colors Inside a Kaleidoscope – Sunset Orange, Chocolate Brown, the Rainbows Found Inside SweeTARTS They Light up the Wall like Imaginary Streetlamps in the Woods of Tahoe It’s a Place Filled with So Much Beauty, but it’s a Vision that Many Will Never Get to View Murals – they Speak the Voices of Cultures of the Past, Homes of Today, Ancestral Voices Echo The Generations of the Future Gaze on Now Fruits Shared in Baskets – Births, Babies, Nectarines, Coffee Beans, Lentils & Honey Wine, Held in the Painted Woman’s Hands Eyes See through the Graffitied Concrete, its Too Much for Many to Bear, Some Refuse to Stare, Yet they’d Leave their Mundane Sight Behind if they Did It’s a Reminder of Oppression, the Portraits Once Blacklisted, the Beauty Once Boycotted The Colors on the Wall – They Remain Something Many Try to Silence & Quell But the Murals are a Gift, One that Still Beams in the Optics of the Youth, when their Parents Drive them in the Backseats of Explorers, When They’re Stuck on the Ride to School It’s a Badge of Home, a Symbol they May or May Not Know, a Mark they Both Love & Hate The Pictures Spoke Louder than the People
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Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 5:53 PM UTC
The Partition in the Painting, & the Tender Recollection
September 17th – 18th, 2020 The Tourists are Attracted with Smiles, Laughter, and Photographs Among Each Other The Men in Blue Vests – They Spy Art, They Glimpse it, & See it Spreading like Wildfire They Think it’s Message is Meant to be Contained The People in the Neighborhood – They Distinguish them as Individual Landmarks The Colors Inside a Kaleidoscope – Sunset Orange, Chocolate Brown, the Rainbows Found Inside SweeTARTS They Light up the Wall like Imaginary Streetlamps in the Woods of Tahoe It’s a Place Filled with So Much Beauty, but it’s a Vision that Many Will Never Get to View Murals – they Speak the Voices of Cultures of the Past, Homes of Today, Ancestral Voices Echo The Generations of the Future Gaze on Now Fruits Shared in Baskets – Births, Babies, Nectarines, Coffee Beans, Lentils & Honey Wine, Held in the Painted Woman’s Hands Eyes See through the Graffitied Concrete, its Too Much for Many to Bear, Some Refuse to Stare, Yet they’d Leave their Mundane Sight Behind if they Did It’s a Reminder of Oppression, the Portraits Once Blacklisted, the Beauty Once Boycotted The Colors on the Wall – They Remain Something Many Try to Silence & Quell But the Murals are a Gift, One that Still Beams in the Optics of the Youth, when their Parents Drive them in the Backseats of Explorers, When They’re Stuck on the Ride to School It’s a Badge of Home, a Symbol they May or May Not Know, a Mark they Both Love & Hate The Pictures Spoke Louder than the People
Written by
ISS55-59-95
25/Cisgender Female/Northern California
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 5:53 PM UTC
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