
Today I borrowed “my soul is joyful” and “swallows my smallness to magnify my awe” to create my poem about the power of joy and the word hallelujah.
No One Knows
No hot water anywhere in the school
And the soap we don’t bring ourselves
A diluted, suds-less, skin-drying potion
No red “stand here” circles or blue taped lines
To give little humans six feet of safe distancing
No way to believe in this “Safe Return to Schools”
No one knows what no one knows.
Families informed that their children will be safe
Teachers advised to get fully vaccinated
and work 15 extra hours to prepare for a safe return
Union agreed to place desks six feet apart
But desks were placed THREE feet apart in rooms packed for summer
Desk shields back-ordered for staff only
My school has no plan for before or after school care
And one grab-n-go meal will be a child’s only meal for six hours
No one knows what no one knows.
It’s not about learning loss when so many are gaining
It’s not about social skills if the silenced are now seen and heard
It’s not about students not receiving what they need
It’s about wanting to return to buildings
It’s about teaching and learning in storage spaces
It’s never been about valuing knowledge.
No one knows what no one knows.
Prompt for April 1st: Rosamond S. King writes poetry using a form called “Shadow Poem.” This form asks you to write a shadow poem of a previously written poem. Today, I offered this prompt to my writers’ community. I suggested they write about shadows or try writing a new poem from one they’ve already written.
My poem below was originally written as an acrostic “ABUSEDWOMAN.” I divorced the form and found a shadow poem within that gives the original poem a deeper meaning.
In the Shadow of Abuse
After the Blood
dried Unseen by the world
She hid herself in pretty boxes
and colorful Envelopes
to give her dark Destruction
a secret Way Out.
Out from the Mirrors in her eyes
showing silent Agony
broken into Neat piles
of suffering.
Fortunes for Survivors of Misfortune
For those of us who have survived abuse…
Survivors of abuse have an automatic angel of protection installed in every scar.
When you can’t sleep, the angels are busy around you.
Your abuser never sleeps soundly.
Your abuser suffers from IBS and incontinence.
Your nightmares mirror your abuser’s reality.
Your abuser has no friends, no joy, and no money.
If your abuser is your spouse, leave now, don’t look back, and take your kids with you.
If your abuser is your lover, love yourself more and leave now.
If your abuser was a stranger, your abuser is now insane.
As a survivor, your eyes will catch eyes of other survivors.
As a survivor, you will tell your story to save the next survivor.
As a survivor, silence is shaming, sharing is empowering.
Each tear you ever cried was collected in God’s palms.
God releases 100-fold blessings for each tear you’ve shed.
Don’t fear being abused again, all abusers are afraid of you.
Don’t fear falling in love again, but fall in love with yourself and God first.
Today’s Prompt: Write a Golden Shovel Poem. Find a poem that speaks to you, use the words of that poem down the margin of your own poem, then write your poem around those words.
My poem is inspired by a poem by Reyna Biddy from her book A Psalm For Us.
Isolated and Free
What was life like BEFORE
This pandemic thought PUTTING
Us in isolation might bring FORTH
Kindness? Are we to BLAME
Can we ACKNOWLEGE
Or consider THAT
Our collective hatred and ABUSE
Would have consequences? God DOESN’T
Like ugly, people ALWAYS
Say. But what may COME
FROM
Our solitude and shelter is AN
Embracing and gratitude of the beauty OUTSIDE
An unquenchable desire to discover our SOURCE
For peace and love. SOMETIMES
We need silence and stillness. WE
ABUSE
Others beyond repair but we abuse OURSELVES
To God’s despair. Go inward and examine yourself MENTALLY
Give your mind and soul an EMOTIONALLY
Uplifting message. Sing, dance and find a PHYSICALLY
Healing and strengthening practice. Rest assured, SPIRITUALLY
You are covered in God’s grace and mercy. Use your isolation to FREE
YOURSELF
An Etheree Poem follows a syllable pattern of 1-10 per line for a 10-Line poem.
Nightmares
Dreams
Return
Tidal waves
Swallowing me
Whole. No lifeguards out
Swimming in slow motion
Breathe one last breath before death
Screaming, gulping, emerge, crying
I awaken to a damp pillow
Wipe wet eyes and pray, “Stop COVID19.”
Let me get this straight
We do not want pity
We do not need apologies
We do not care about how you wish you knew
We survived before you reacted
We had nightmares
We suffered post traumatic episodes
We compromised our sanity with instant replays
We held shame
We cried in therapy
And then
We decided to rise
Out of darkness
We decided to believe
In the power of forgiveness
We decided to reveal
Details of rape
Do not define
Who we are
We decided to pray
To set our minds on Spirit
To give us life again
To give us peace again
To live well again.