Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
these days
looking around the globe
one might believe that we are traveling in time

just in the wrong direction

regression as progress
seems to be
the dominant notion of the day
creating wannabes in various disguises
     populist czars, sultans, nationalists, dictators,
     assorted self-appointed saviors
     of their peoples’ wealth and health,
trumpeting fences, walls, tough immigration laws,
etc., etc.  
to keep out and silence all those aliens
     or invade their countries
      and eliminate them

     who otherwise are welcome
     as our partners in the global trade
     that seems to dominate the world of greed

so we can all be ourselves

     whatever that might mean

claiming to solve the problems of tomorrow
     with memories of yesterday
is not only hopeless but quite dangerous

do you remember
what that glorified past
actually was?
Apropos the current situation in the Ukraine this 2016 poem is reposted with two additional lines
Where are you
That I’m lost
For you’re found

Eternal soul
A salt bed

Can’t fit
Won’t regard
Refuse contact

I don’t
Become you
Instead hate

In my
Regard the
Ominous regret

Does it
Even matter
Any more
Thou're not worthy of better seasons
Make yourselves worthy
And then ye might receive
Kai Jan 8
As school comes to an end, I decide to
spend the summertime with my instrument.
I read music theory for two hours,
but my hands yearn for the touch of six strings.
Fingers position themselves to stroke bliss.
But my phone’s troubled with recurring rings.

****, it was mom telling me I have class!
I raced for my backpack, and I told her:
I will not slack. Papers grew so lonely
without their folder to cuddle them close.
I couldn’t care to organize them cause
usually, I’d lay in my seat repose.

Ionic bonds? What do they even mean?
And what the heck is “double replacement”?
Okay, I should start paying attention.
I grasp the pen. I notice the tension.
As soon as I write, my hands start to shake.
I start over. Now hands begin to ache.

What in the world is happening to me?
Two words: I scream. Head jerks, and my legs shake.
It has to be a dream. It has to be!
Don’t want to move, but I have to take notes.
Why are random words bursting out my throat?  
I’ma be real. I need my mommy!

Class is over. I exclaim to mother:
my fingers refuse to stop tremoring.
And I’m getting these tics. What set it off?
First thing I do is reach for my guitar.
I can’t hold it. I can’t ******* grab it.
Eyes of terror stay written on my face.

The next day I was in a wheelchair.
I cannot look straight- straight up to the sky
or look in front and into people’s eyes.
My right-hand curves to the left. A tendon
sinks into my flesh, and my left fingers
cramp up from being intertwined like vines.

They are stiff. Hideous. These are not mine.
But it does get much better with some time.
I can walk again, talk again, and write.
But all good things come with downfalls, don’t they?
My brain disease will come at me with might.
And I refuse to give up on this fight.

There will be a time when I reach stage five.
And I know it won’t be a pretty sight.
I’m ready for what will happen to me.
Dearest guitar, please know you’re my heaven.
Why bother to fret? Cause’ when the time comes
I’ll see you again in a few seconds.
Last year I was diagnosed with a brain disease, but that won't stop me from doing what I love.
Jammit Janet Oct 2021
I feel flat. Dull.
My words come out chonky, generic, and lull.

Am I stuck in a block that doesn’t exist?
Non-existent limitations
Stifle my wrists

Maybe I just need to get going
To go anywhere at all
To work through the junk
That has my mind feeling
Like it’s stalled

Waiting for the next best thing
That I already have
To harness
And take that leap
Without the fear of a fall

Because all I can do is go up from here
Loud and tall.
Norman Crane Aug 2021
dumb wind blows away
all the words smart people say
progress is decay
Jammit Janet Aug 2021
I'm self actualizing
High fiving
As I cross the finish line
Thriving in success.
Brett Jul 2021
Down I go
Dying slow; no carpet rides
Beneath the blue below
Precious diamonds; pressure only grinds my bones
         That which dwells in these depths,
         Must be overthrown
         Like the stone, dragging me deeper
         Into this black cold
All my sunken attempts
Dress the sand in swords
For all the fallen warriors slain
By the dueling voices inside my brain
        Chained to pillars in this endless ocean
        Composure erodes like weathered boulders
        Yet, I stand staunch against the breaking waves
        For what is outside myself, I have no mind to claim
Jammit Janet Jul 2021
I planted wild
Flowers in the night
I shed tears
That embrace the seeds
That will blossom
Into my heart ❤️✨
Next page