#minneapolis
Winter air cuts the lungs again
Like it’s done before
Boots on concrete, radios crack
At another door
Mothers counting breaths in the dark
Like rosary beads
Teaching children how to disappear
When the sirens speak
They say lock your doors
Like wood can save a life
Say stay inside
Like fear can tell wrong from right
Say show your papers
Say prove you belong
But the cold don’t ask
And the law don’t listen long
Two dead in Minneapolis
Citizens, they say
As if a card or a color
Could stand in the way
As if belonging is armor
As if skin is a shield
As if the ones with the power
Ever cared how we feel
They say lock your doors
Like silence keeps you safe
Say don’t look out
Say don’t say their names
But the streets remember footsteps
The walls remember screams
And the truth don’t stay buried
Just because it’s unseen
I heard the shouting through a phone
“They’re here, they’re here”
Like a storm with a badge on
Drawing near
Go inside, turn the lights off
Hold your breath, don’t cry
History keeps repeating
But we’re told this time’s a lie
Down in Dilley they’re chanting
Let us out, let us out
Human voices breaking through
What the fences are about
You can cage a body
You can change a name
But the sound of wanting freedom
Still sounds the same
They tried to teach the night new words
Tried to rename the pain
But the truth was breathing on a screen
And wouldn’t stay contained
They say lock your doors
Like fear is a plan
Say trust the system
Built by trembling hands
But winter knows no borders
And grief don’t check IDs
And the ground keeps asking
Who gets to breathe
Mothers still counting
The night still long
If this is what order looks like
Then something’s wrong
Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 6:35 PM UTC
We are sorry.
We are ashamed.
We are scared.
We are angry.
We’re watching our country speak loudly—
and not with kindness.
Watching power mistake cruelty for strength
and call it leadership.
To the rest of the world:
you see what we see.
Our flag has been used to justify harm.
Our headlines don’t stay here—
they spill outward.
We don’t want to be known by the worst among us,
We are not blind.
The handshakes. The praise. The cozy grins.
A president who treats dictators like colleagues,
like comrades,
like something to admire.
It’s visible.
It’s audible.
Fallout travels.
So don’t confuse grief with ignorance.
Don’t confuse fear with consent.
Millions don’t want this to be our legacy.
Don’t want cruelty to become tradition,
or propaganda to be the language our children inherit.
This is the moment to find each other.
Neighbors, coworkers, strangers in the same line,
grouping together and building something sturdier than outrage,
something louder than despair:
a future built on dignity,
on truth,
on protecting people
even when it’s uncomfortable.
For the generations after us,
we owe more than apologies.
We owe a turning.
We owe a repair
Jan 10
Jan 10, 2026 at 6:47 AM UTC
There’s nothing quite like the sharp reports
Of a pistol and the splattering of blood
From the brain of a three times mother
And a van careening into a parked car.
Isn’t America great again!
(Would you please run the video back to the spot
Where smoke sprays out from the gun?)
This is almost as thrilling as blowing up boats
In the Caribbean –Due process shmoo process.
This is justice Trump style.
Foxy Pete smiles before his mirror and straightens his tie.
What’s a death or two or a hundred
When you are cult-bound
To keep America safe from democracy.
Pete takes a hanky and wipes the blood from his reflection
And off to work he goes with a spring in his step
And a sprightly tune in his whistle.
(Would you please run the video back to the spot
Where smoke sprays out from the gun?)
Thanks-you are a true and loyal patriot!
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 4:27 PM UTC
A man driving a semi truck down a closed highway towards thousands of kneeling peaceful protestors was not an accident.
My wife and I were there. I was absolutely overwhelmed by the love and solidarity I felt from the community as we chanted for justice—an elderly Black man with a walking cane telling me about how he’s still in the struggle for his grand babies; families honking and throwing up fists from their cars; teens dancing and singing; folks handing out water bottles and food. We marched from US Bank Stadium to the middle of highway 35W and knelt for a moment of silence for George Floyd.
As we were still on the ground, many of us kneeling and sitting, I glanced behind me to abruptly see panicking and screaming. We jumped up and dispersed with the crowd. All I could think of was finding my wife and protecting her. We clung to each other and ran as far off of the highway as we could. Within minutes, dozens of police vehicles showed up and, as we stood in shock at the edge of the highway, one vehicle needlessly sprayed us with mace. Choking and sneezing, we hopped a nearby fence to get even farther away.
As we walked down town to get to our car, already frazzled, folks kept warning us not to go down certain streets because they saw armed white supremacists waiting.
Thankfully, good friends came and gave us a ride to our car. We’re home and safe now.
I say all this to let folks know our message of justice and peace is being strategically infiltrated by white supremacists and police officers. This isn’t anything new. This has always happened throughout history. Plenty of others will confirm this has happened and is continuing to happen.
My body is tense and my system is on fire. I feel angry—yet resilient and determined. Because I know there are more people taking care of each other and working to end systems of oppression than there are people trying to incite violence and fear. And I believe that we will win.
-Joseph Micheal Davis
#BlackLivesMatter #JusticeForGeorgeFloyd
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
she cries in shattered glass,
in the open spaces where the dye was cast.
a world so white, so drenched in paint,
the ones now deaf once were saints.
and when the black came out to say
a counterfeit bill a jog a day-
light crime so bold so crazy
it made the streets hazy with smoke.
equality sounds a lot like a hoax
the war brushed away with nothing but Twitter
tear gas and bullets are so much fitter, bitter
is the taste of deafness upon a lost society.
abandoned, forgotten, stomped on and out
no wonder some have forgotten their law abiding piety.
white paint becomes pink
when mixed with blood.
pink is a color for little girls,
and fits perfectly with the sound of our world.
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 3:50 PM UTC
Billowing smoke fills the sky —
Evidence of our Presence,
Our tragic War Cry,
Our fight for Convalescence.
Fire is a language —
Brighter than words;
Brings more damage
& equally absurd.
Violence is a tongue —
The scream of the Unwanted —
Echoing from sore lungs;
Yet, we are not daunted.
No fear, break the gird —
Refuse to be unheard —
Fire is our Word,
Violence is our Word.
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 12:36 AM UTC
I have died a million times
Master's whip
Has left my back a million lines
Each body left broken
Connections lost
Cut a million vines
Each body left breathless
"I can't breathe" the words screamed a billion times
May 27, 2020
May 27, 2020 at 10:57 AM UTC
We sit next to each other
In the mezzanine
Of the crowded theater
Our matching purple outfits
Far too dressy for the occasion
But who cares
We look **** good
You put your hand out
Palm up
And look at me
As I smile
My coy, giddy smile
And place my hand on top
Interlacing my fingers with yours
The lights dim
And the show starts
But you never let go of my hand
Even when it gets weird and clammy
You never pull away
Even when I snort into your shoulder
And wipe away my laughing tears
You still hold onto me
You gently stroke my arm
Your warm thumb
Against my smooth bicep
And I can't help but smile
I look over
And catch you staring
Which makes me blush
And get coy again
The mezzanine
The balcony
The floor
It all disappears
When I feel your touch
Your light touch
Just glide over my skin
I float to another dimension
When you lean over
And kiss my cheek
Only coming back
To the mezzanine
When I open my eyes
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC
Tonight.
I saw a woman walking with earbuds in--one earbud was in--while conversing over the phone with someone. Beauty overwhelmed her mortal body. A piece of her hair had loosely fallen from the right side of her scalp, and her blonde, beach waves blew in the wind.
Behind her was a man in a coral v-neck. He had blonde hair and the body build of a high school **** Handsome. As the woman ahead of him leisurely strolled the streets of Minneapolis in her athletic shorts, which were outlined by gray stripes and dipped up in the middle of the side of her thighs, the wind seemingly spun the jock's face 180 degrees. His eyes were awestruck and full of alive hope, wonder, and desire. Lust. What a picture.
Aug 7, 2017
Aug 7, 2017 at 7:42 PM UTC
Light breaks through
After so many days spent with you
Cigarette burns on the sheets
Empty bottles and old needles accompanied with grief
Expelled a gust of air from my lungs
Feet fall to the floor and i felt high strung
But my heart is quite low
I can't stay here with you I need to go
Not another night
I need a smoke
A plan
A helping hand
Away from this
From you
I need a taste of my old life that I missed
Because this world has got me feeling blue
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
Beginning in 1963,
My Favorite Martian on vintage TVs
Instamatic 50s, capturing instant faces.
Elizabeth Taylor, and James D Hardy
JFK, and Magic Bullet Theory.
Go Away Little Girl,
Our Day Will Come,
Easier Said Than Done.
Surf City.
Remember that day in
St. Joseph, Missouri?
Sitting on the front porch
A boy with his guitar?
Music igniting his fire.
Lincoln Nebraska, to Minneapolis,
Where his story truly begins.
University and Limited Warranty,
Fatherhood, a family man.
Sun Shot Halo
Signal to Noise
Olivine.
Rising with caffeine.
Crispix and Bobby’s World
Little red television set
New Hope kitchenette.
Bedtime routines
Beverley Hillbillies Theme
And of course, The Hobbit!
This is the life he chose,
Chasing those music notes
Daydreaming for daylight.
This is the life he chose
Brew Pubs and Rock N Roll
Well you know, it’s just how it goes.
His hands are calloused,
Weathered, and grown.
Saving vibrations and inspirations
An hour glass inside his bones.
Steady on the Timeline
Moving Things in the right direction
From Coast to Coast.
Columbia coat and winters freeze
One last drag on a Malboro.
Surly-Furious triggering the spark
Sing it loud and let the world hear,
Like a match lighting up the dark.
Coming down to earth now,
There is a little girl
Who he inspired to be all that she could be.
Remember King Olaf?
Thumb controlled airplane rides?
Bedtime PB&J;’s, Don’t forget the crust!
Boy Bands and car rides across the map
Backyard jams and the punk scene
Kids of the black hole, those patched pants!
Mosaic window panes illuminating her soul
Like the Phoenix of Legends
She Said She Could Save the World.
Silhouettes of who she ought to be
All Along Screaming Save Me.
So many names and faces,
For a moment the chains fell away
Fighting for control,
But he would never let go.
She’s coming back from the hits
Escaping the jail cell that once held,
Her confidence.
Passion ignites from within her bones
Waldorf mind set
Willingness to be selfless.
Social Worker,
Photographer,
Warrior;
His Daughter.
Saturday morning bike rides
Father and Daughter.
The best moments in life
Kept inside picture frames.
Northeast artist scene,
The Matchbox, 331, Dusty’s, and the Slacker
Only in Old Minneapolis.
Throwing stones into the fire,
She knew she had won because
She inherited his heart;
So step out of the blue,
I want you to know
I Love You.
This is the life we chose
Chasing those music notes
Daydreaming for daylight.
This is the life we chose
Brew Pubs and Rock N Roll
Well, you know, it’s just how it goes.
© Jo Tomso
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC