#100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? Day 3

Spoken word poet Lloyd Garrison addresses head-on an issue that will likely vex us for the foreseeable future. Just how divided are we?


Worlds Apart?

There is no doubt in my mind that we are still worlds apart. But King’s Dream is still attainable as long as we put aside our pride and finally learn to work together. 

What if we actually opened our ears to hear what he was really trying to tell us?

I know he’s not here anymore…but he left one hell of a blueprint for us to follow in his footsteps. We’ve only had 53 years to pick up where he left off. I won’t bother asking you if you think life is fair…because we both know it’s not…but it sucks even more for people who look like me. Whether we stream it live or see it happening right in front of our eyes…the world as we know it is in a dark place. But at least I can say I’ve met at least one person who cares as much as I do. 

But how can a person begin to justify an injustice? 

How can a person explain the pain that has followed black and brown people for centuries?

I know you can hear it in our voices when we are talking to the media about another lost life…I know you can feel it in our spirits that used to be so full of life and energy. Protesting keeps us in the fight, but our goal is to bring awareness to those who think we are somehow intimidated…we’re not…and never will be….

We just don’t want or need to lose more innocent lives. 

We are just tired of having to step over and beyond the limitations that were never reasonable for us in the first place. Most of us just want our kids to graduate, find a job, and live a peaceful life away from drama and street life.

On the bright side, you’ve shared some things with me that have changed my outlook on life. 

I know now that you had no control over the family you were born into…not everyone was born into riches, burns crosses, and celebrates their misguided viewpoints by watching Birth of A Nation with no commercial breaks. 

I know now that you had no control over the color of your skin…not everyone wants to live in a world that treats some people like animals and others like human beings. 

I know now that just because someone is white doesn’t mean they can’t fight for equal rights…not everyone uses their privilege to support a racist agenda.

We’ll, I’m here to tell you that

I am and always will be worthy of equal treatment and so are you,

I am and always will be worthy of feeling safe whether I am at home or away and so are you, 

I am and always will be worthy of being viewed as an asset and not a liability and so are you. 

All I know is…the more we get comfortable talking about issues some people are scared to confess or address…the closer we will be to giving America what it really needs: A MAKEOVER.


*****

Mr. Lloyd L. Garrison is the CEO of Hidden G.E.M.S. by LG. Lloyd received his Bachelor of Arts (2001) and Master of Arts (2005) degrees in English from Miami University in Oxford, Oh. LLoyd’s goal is to spread messages of hope, love, peace, and truth through the power of the spoken word.  He’s on the web at hiddengemsbylg.com .

*****

For the first 100 days of the Biden administration, this website will feature a new poem of What’s Next!? These pieces can be calls to action, calls to attention, or calls to anger. They will light the way and guide the fight. They will get us moving and keep our momentum. They will be filled with hope, with anger, with sorrow. They will get us into good trouble and point out the trouble we need to stop. They will be polished gems, or rough-cut drafts of rage, or in-process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered.

#100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? wants your poems, your prose, your visual art (photos, drawings, sculptures), your music, your short films and animations. Interpret the theme as broadly as you’d like.

If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with your visual art (as .jpg or .pdf) or your poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. Include a short bio (2-3 sentences) and social media/website information. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. Waxyandpoetic.com will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day beginning 20 January 2021.

Read, follow, share, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

#100Days100Poems Of What’s Next!? Day 2

Performance poet Dee Allen, swirling around five words, takes us on a whirlwind recap of 2020 and conjures some hopes for 2021.

FIVE WORD CHALLENGE

This year 2020
Left us rushing
Toward apocalypse
With multiple causes
Unseen vapouriser of billions
Coronavirus leading the charge—
Humanity travelling on slalom course of ice
To the end most disbelieved

Some wildfires here,
Some super storms there,
Tail end of tyrannical
American rule right in the middle—

Gone is the schadenfreude*
Spewing from orange face,
Repeated by loyal
Flag-waving, red cap bigot followers

And here’s to hoping

Gone will be our increasing isolation,
Our lockdown situation—
Vaccines are appearing, pharmaceutical lab
Works-in-progress—
I’ll trust one
When the new vice president 
Herself takes a needle shot—
 
W: 12.14.2020

©Dee Allen – 2021

*****

Dee Allen is an African-Italian performance poet based in Oakland, California. Active on the creative writing & Spoken Word tips since the early 1990s. With 35 anthology appearances [including Your Golden Sun Still Shines, Rise, Extreme, The Land Lives Forever, Civil Liberties United, Trees In A Garden Of Ashes, Colossus: Home and new from Chicago-based MuseWrite Press, Impact] under his figurative belt so far, he is also the author of five books, which can be found via the links below.

BONEYARD [ 2010 ] >  Dee Allen (poormag.info)[Book is currently out of print.]
UNWRITTEN LAW [ 2012 & 2020 ] >  Dee Allen (poormag.info)   [2012 edition is out of print.]  and   UNWRITTEN LAW: POEMS [ 1994–2011 ] | poorpressprensapobre[2020 edition.]
STORMWATER  [2017] >  Storm Water | poorpressprensapobre and   Stormwater – Poetry by Dee Allen | flapperpress
SKELETAL BLACK [2019] >  Skeletal Black | poorpressprensapobre and  Skeletal Black – Poetry by Dee Allen | flapperpress
ELOHI UNITSI [2020] >  Elohi Unitsi: Poems [2013 – 2018] (conviction2change.com)


*****

For the first 100 days of the Biden administration, this website will feature a new poem of What’s Next!? These pieces can be calls to action, calls to attention, or calls to anger. They will light the way and guide the fight. They will get us moving and keep our momentum. They will be filled with hope, with anger, with sorrow. They will get us into good trouble and point out the trouble we need to stop. They will be polished gems, or rough-cut drafts of rage, or in-process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered.

#100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? wants your poems, your prose, your visual art (photos, drawings, sculptures), your music, your short films and animations. Interpret the theme as broadly as you’d like.

If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with your visual art (as .jpg or .pdf) or your poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. Include a short bio (2-3 sentences) and social media/website information. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. Waxyandpoetic.com will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day beginning 20 January 2021. Read, follow, share, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

#100Days100Poems Day 1 Inauguration Day.

Camel Heard Shouting
in Black Lives Matter Plaza Northwest

1 – 20 – 2021

that palindrome date to be read

forwards & backwards

with hope that we we only

move forwards and not back

hindsight showing us 2020

1

20

20

21

attention at the left margin

like a paladin

ready for the good fight

that lies ahead, against the right

lucky because we read left to

right; though our metaphor moves

will be to the left

our direction, progress

our speed on hurry


1 2 0 2 0 2 1

as if prescription number

that palliative first pill

in a 1,460 dose regimen of

antitrumpiotics &

antinaziotics &

anticonspiriotics–

one pill every 24 hours keeps regression away

and day by day the sick body politic

becomes healthy and stronger


1

20

2021

palladium

poised to lift

us up, step by step

stepping us up to

new heights &

new hopes &

new horizons

we are here

ready to work &

build & change

and we will get

louder & stronger


20 – 1 – 2021

palatable and palpable

to the rest of the world

one dash of change, hints of new

perspective

and seeing is believing

chew on that possibility



1-20-2021

the palimpsest

we can not erase the scarscratches

and errors, the wrong words,

the wrongs & the wounds,

the falsehoods & fakeries, the forgeries & fripperies

but we will scribe anew

tales of redemption & reconstruction

resurrection & resolution

resolve & resuscitation

part

“once upon a time…”

part

“on this day in history…”


©David Siller – 2021

*****

For the first 100 days of the Biden administration, this website will feature a new poem of What’s Next!? These pieces can be calls to action, calls to attention, or calls to anger. They will light the way and guide the fight. They will get us moving and keep our momentum. They will be filled with hope, with anger, with sorrow. They will get us into good trouble and point out the trouble we need to stop. They will be polished gems, or rough-cut drafts of rage, or in-process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered.

#100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? wants your poems, your prose, your visual art (photos, drawings, sculptures), your music, your short films and animations. Interpret the theme as broadly as you’d like.

If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with your visual art (as .jpg or .pdf) or your poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. Include a short bio (2-3 sentences) and social media/website information. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. Waxyandpoetic.com will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day beginning 20 January 2021. Read, follow, share, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

#100Days100Poems is Back! Here’s the Pre-Poem! The Warm-Up!

On 21 January 2017, Waxyandpoetic.com embarked on #100Days100Poems of Protest in response to the election and inauguration of an orange menace. Four years later we find ourselves in a position to begin to clean up the disaster and rebuild. In the tradition of those poems, Waxy & Poetic is proud to kick off #100Days100Poems of What’s Next!?

During the first hundred days of the Biden administration, that’s the question. What hopes do you have? What calls to action? What cries to rally the troops to continue the necessary fight? What good trouble should we get in? Where do we need to turn our attention? What’s next in order to continue moving forward?

Our work is only just beginning, and as Salman Rushdie once said, “A poet’s work is to name the unnameable, to point out frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.” Though we officially start tomorrow, let’s have our fire sale to get rid of the old!

Click on image to enlarge.

Click here until 1/25/2021 to see actual ad.

©David Siller – 2021

*****

For the first 100 days of the Biden administration, this website will feature a new poem of What’s Next!?. These pieces can be calls to action, calls to attention, or calls to anger. They will light the way and guide the fight. They will get us moving and keep our momentum. They will be filled with hope, with anger, with sorrow. They will get us into good trouble and point out the trouble we need to stop. They will be polished gems, or rough-cut drafts of rage, or in-process pieces searching for peace. They may be haiku or tanka, limericks or lyrics, verses free or fettered.

#100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? wants your poems, your prose, your visual art (photos, drawings, sculptures), your music, your short films and animations. Interpret the theme as broadly as you’d like.

If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with your visual art (as .jpg or .pdf) or your poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. Include a short bio (2-3 sentences) and social media/website information. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. Waxyandpoetic.com will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day beginning 20 January 2021.

Read, follow, share, submit, live, love, spread light! Don’t forget to use #100Days100Poems !

#100Days100Poems Will Return!

On 21 January 2017, Waxyandpoetic.com embarked on #100Days100Poems of Protest in response to the election and inauguration of an orange menace. Four years later we find ourselves in a position to begin to clean up the disaster and rebuild. In the tradition of those poems, Waxy & Poetic is proud to call for submissions for #100Days100Poems of What’s Next!?

During the first hundred days of the Biden administration, that’s the question. What hopes do you have? What calls to action? What cries to rally the troops to continue the necessary fight? What good trouble should we get in? Where do we need to turn our attention? What’s next in order to continue moving forward?

Interpret the theme as broadly as you’d like. #100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? wants your poems, your prose, your visual art (photos, drawings, sculptures), your short films and animations.

Waxy & Poetic is a vehicle for spreading that art to the four corners, free to all. We cannot offer compensation for your work, but all rights remain with the creators.

Our work is only just beginning, and as Salman Rushdie once said, “A poet’s work is to name the unnameable, to point out frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep.”

If you would like to submit to this endeavor, please send an email, with your visual art (as .jpg or .pdf) or your poem saved as a word document (.docx) to waxyandpoetic AT gmail DOT com. All rights remain with the author. Please address any formatting preferences in your email. Waxyandpoetic.com will post submissions time permitting, with at least one per day beginning 20 January 2021.

Another shooting? How about some…

 

 

 

Thoughts & Prayers

This is for the gun gods
the My AR-15 weighs a ton gods
the doesn’t matter what you did you’ll still get done gods
the church mass massacre calling home the nun gods
the draw in the raffle see what weapon you’ve won gods
the pop the kid with the plastic pistol playground fun gods
the if you’re white it’s alright, if you’re black better reach for the sun gods
the stop!-I’ll-shoot-you-in-the-back-if-you-run gods
the guns got safeties and you got none gods
the present is dystopian w/o the future’s set your phasers on stun gods

we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill
we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill

we beseech you, grant us
        gats for teachers & straps for preachers
        toolies for tots & toasters for teens
        glocks for girls & biscuits for boys
we need burners & heaters
               heat & street sweepers
        a piece for peace of mind
        a problem solver for algebra time

grant us the weapons we need for
        elementaries & junior highs
        movie theatres & senior highs
for night clubs & churches
for shopping malls & other houses of worships
for concerts & pool parties & county fairs & baseball practice fields

we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill
we have not yet spilled enough blood
& there is more to spill

our arms dealer who art in heaven
hollow points be your game
your amendment come, your will be done
in schools as it is in cinemas
give us this day our daily clips
and forgive us our friendly fire
as we forgive those who fire against us
and lead us not into gun regulation
and deliver us from safety
for thine is the gun show
and the power and the gory
forever and ever
bang bang

 

 

When Love Drinks Too Much, & Gets Honest

Love Offers an Apologia to Various Bar Patrons
Between Sips of His Fourth Long Island Iced Tea

To begin, there is no alpha and no omega, I just am. And let me dispel the pop culture myth that I’m all you need, because it’s not true. You need more, you really do. (I said tealights and Beaujolais, not tacos and Budweiser.) It is not my fault that you didn’t write down what she said after those margaritas and it is not my fault that you did not meet him when he told you, nor that you did not wear that little charcoal gray number he likes so much. It is not my fault that he smokes cigars, nor that she has a penchant for them. Could you add another shot of gin to this please? I didn’t name the car in that Disney movie, though after further review I think it works. I’ve never once said that you should say it over and over and over, tossing it around like ‘Hello’ or ‘How’s it going?’ It should be almost-sacred, whispered, shouted, intimate (take that as you wish–intimate and cozy, intimate apparel, intimate friends, into mate). It needs a little rum, too. I do not have wings and I do not go around shooting heart-tipped arrows in some serial-loving rampage that’s going to be on the 6 o’clock news. February 14 was not my idea, neither were those little cards you had to buy for Mrs. Morton’s third grade class. I’ve had it up to here with the TV game shows, the classified ads, and Hallmark. It is not my fault she set you up with the guy from IT. I never told you she would be gentle. I don’t honor redos. I don’t encourage cutesy poems and letters in her locker. Say, more vodka please, the ice is melting. I don’t recommend you wait for him after every practice. I don’t like it when you say tough love and I don’t answer calls on the first ring. ‘Hugs not Drugs’ is not mine (does it work?). You can’t me books, TV shows, outfits, money, movies, cars, cities, or Mexican food. You should, whether or not he can dance. If you really do, she should get another chance. And it’s not a matter of whether you keep on your pants. Triple sec, more triple shec, the balanshe is off. My pet peeves are wishy-washy-ness, unfinished business, and people who use ❤. Since the year dot, I’ve only tried to make it go ‘round. Sometimes you guys should pitch in. At first sight is okay, but it bothers me that the French call it a strike of lightning. What’s the weather got to do with it? I protest words that rhyme with me, I am a wonderful thing, even if he can’t sing.

And I’m definitely better than war.

#100Days100Poems #TBT Happy 4th!

In honor of today’s July 4th Celebrations, I thought we’d do a little throw back Tuesday to a poem that first appeared during #100Days100Poems. We must continue to #Resist

 

Where Are You, America?

there you are, you
        scientists & park rangers & women & men & immigrants & 
        green card holders & teachers & stay-at-home dads & 
        stay-at-home moms & christians & muslims & atheists & 
        agnostics & taxi drivers & people 
`                with open hearts and open minds and open eyes


there you are

 
wandering
        on the National Mall at the feet of Lincoln
            ferrying the Hudson, led by Lady LIberty’s light
                navigating under the Golden Gate
                    gliding into the Port of Galveston

 


marching
       in Lafayette Park & Battery Park
       in Copley Square & Herman Square

 
       on Market Street & Lavaca Street
       on Fifth Ave & Congress Ave

 

landing and waiting and protesting
        @ JFK & SFO & DFW
        @ LAX & PDX & PHX
        @ PHL & STL & SAN & SEA
        @ IAH & DEN & RDU & ORD

 


speaking out
        from Lexington to Little Rock to Philadelphia
        from Sacramento to Albany
        from Cape Cod to Corpus Christi
        from Memphis to Milwaukee to Kalamazoo


speaking truth to propaganda
        in the Badlands
        in Yosemite & Yellowstone
echoing through the Rocky mountains and the Great Smoky Mountains

 

fist pumping at city halls and veterans halls
        in Houston & Honolulu
        in Burlington & Buffalo & Baton Rouge


America you are everywhere
        and soon you will be back
                in the White House
                                to put right
                                        the alt-right wrong
                                        the poisonous pencer
                                        the burnt orange trump card
                                        the fascist catastrophe


the World will be rooting for you
the World will be waiting for you
                                the true America
                                        the just America
                                                the free America

 

© David Siller – 2017

 

A Post-Hiatus Sestina!

Hello, hello! Greetings and salutations! After finally recovering from #100Days100Poems, we return today with a poem using one of my favorite forms. Look forward to weekly (or so) updates: new poems, prose pieces, culture commentary and the like. Feel free to share this post, and let me know what you think!

 

Is the Commute a Place for the Comm or the Mute?

And the first time we spoke was on a crowded
subway car and it was no accident
that I managed to untwist my tongue
long enough for an awkward hello to rise
from the timid lockbox that keeps me separate
from normal human interactions, where I am out of sync.

 

on most occasions where the M.O. is to sink
into myself, better hanging on to straps of crowded
thoughts, I instead jostle human to human to unseparate
my voice from your ears, your song from mine. No accident,
then, that in a few moments of foolish bravery or brave foolery I rise
to move from here to you, green light to expressive tongue

 

And tied it is, this cottoned, hesitant tongue,
where a life vest is not enough to stop me sinking
into my sea of doubt, bay of disbelief–and still I rise
from this too-tight seat on an underground train, crowded
with commuters & dancers & panhandlers. I have accidentally
convinced myself that words will not keep us separate.

 

and this end of the car, the score of bodies separating
us & our initial contact, our first wordsembracekiss, lips & tongue
dancing as if colliding in some mass transit accident
and I wade through the swamp of passengers. My heart sinks
as at first I struggle to make it through the crowd
of head-phoned, book-nosed, ear-budded, phone-focused mass. Hope rises.

 

And as I clamber through a bipedal jungle, as eyes rise
from my solitude to your ‘well, come over here’ glance, I begin to separate
this lumpy undesirable frame from the train crowd,
thought bubbles morph into speech bubbles as ‘hello’ moves from brain to tongue
and my only thought is how to sink
into the seat beside you, willing a welcome happy accident

 

or derailment– re-setting my course to you through accident
or crash through crowd and car, too. Rise
bold and brave in your vision–how I want to sink
into you, merge, mingle, marry, so as not to be separate
whether connected by hand or heart tongue
finding each other on a local, rush hour train, delayed and crowded

And as my tongue rises, clicks a tsk to roof of closed mouth, I sink into my seat.
It is no accident that this crowded commute insists on keeping us separate.

 

**

 

© David Siller – 2017