#100Days100Poems of What’s Next!? Day 23

Here in New York City, the difficulties of shut downs and isolation have been especially acute. You can’t live in a place like this without feeding off the energy of the millions of people around you. But as vaccines get distributed, and we get closer to a new normal, we can think on how we will be after.

Unlearning the Lessons We’ve Learned

When the masks come off, stretch your lips up and out
remember that the seats on the R and the F are not sofa-soft and not for           spreading or lounging

at your first happy hour, lock eyes at the clink of glasses, hoist your arm high
 your HUZZAH must be higher
hugs, handshakes should be firm and warm
 allow them to linger as long as needed

buy a normal amount of toilet paper

take a slice to go
 take two, take a whole pie

browse for books--the TBR most certainly needs reinforcements after such an assault
buy tickets to the show your friend adored, see the midnight screening of the premier
 long delayed

race the Grand Staircase, pant and wheeze as if you’re as out of shape as the   peasants in the pastoral you passed, as you linger to catch your breath before the first canvas that
caught your eye, speaking to you in an ancient tongue

and, if, hope beyond hope, you have match-made, or swiped correctly,
 when your hands meet halfway across the table, avoiding wine glasses & tapas plates,
 make the first fingertip-to-fingertip freeze
 in your new moment

©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 of What’s Next!? Day 22

It’s been called the United States of America for a good long while. But let’s be honest, we’ve always ALWAYS been this divided. From the moment the first colonizers arrived, with their killing, looting, stealing and genociding. How do we get to unity when it’s never been on our map?

This is (Not) My America

look at the whole of the map

mandered or rigged,
 it matters little what these jerrys did
   the carving clinical for all those turkeys
   in the red cages & blue cages
  occasionally threatened
 by purple rages

look at the whole of the map

the flyover states, the beer gut of America
  the bloated persuasion that
   it is the true America
   the (lock)landed heart of America
  tornado-torn & fond of porn
 harvested & re-planted fields of self-absorption

the coastal elites with their fancy pants & skinny jeans
   neither in my size
  with their net worths & networks
   their leagues ivy not intramural
   their societies secret only after fully paid admission
  (but completely free of admissions of guilt)

the Rust belt, with belts & boot straps
  so rusted, so stripped of value
   it’s impossible to pull up (except stakes)
  only able to pull out

the desert Southwest
  deserted of compassion
   borders patrolled by trolls cold as ICE
   unchanged, even the summer sun not quite hot enough
  even with climate change boost juice

the dark tundra of Alaska
   open & empty
   voting machines & voting machinations
    in plain sight
   for the Russians who can see their
  White House

in the NW corner, Pacific looming
  vineyard booming, rugged progressive grooming
   sleepless rainy Emerald City, Portland fame
    ancient golden city in a golden state
   gold showers over its
  gold mines & moving picture show gold mine

over snowy Rock-capped mountains, past geyser gusting
  more hot gas & hot water than guys will be guys politicians
   over lands reserved for the only ones that didn’t 
  immigrate or assassinate or dominate

the big red state with its big pink rock
 capital; campaigns against science & history
   front line in the war on women.
 it’s almost as if the other 49 were forgotten
or the outshined sun hurricane state, the tail or the prick of America
 ass wagging between gulf and sea

let’s look up

the south, with its blown-up churches & blown up
 cinemas & blown up night clubs
   bright white terrors glowing
  in these dark days America
 winter trees not hanging leaves

up up up the coast from outer banks to 
 Wall St banks
past the swamp capital of America
  stench stretching from sea to shining sea
bounce through the original colonies
  the witches burn better on wood stakes
   bonfire lines
  the genocide starting line
 the white supremacy dancing country western line

and then finally to the harbor
 where you must imagine the shadow of two towers
 it is Lady Liberty, her torch now a flashlight
 barely enlightening the world from the great
 Porte of the World
 behind her the contiguous states of America
 doused in darkness, covered in a patchwork quilt
 
and no e pluribus unum to kick off the covers

©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 of What’s Next!? Day 21

Careful, poet Faizan Syed is coming in hot with this take on immigration and xenophobia and racism and…

©Faizan Syed – 2021

*****

Faizan Syed, MD is a writer, musician, and psychiatrist based in Queens, NY and is a member of the Queens Poetic Alchemy Collective. He was awarded the Folger Adams Jr. Prize for 1st place in Poetry and the Graduating Poet’s Award from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He has been featured on Humans of New York. Faizan’s work has appeared in Montage Literary Arts Journal, Newtown Literary, Cosmonauts Ave, & Empty Mirror. Poems he’s written in collaboration with Matthew DeMarco have been published in Jet Fuel Review, Dogbird Journal, and “They Said,” an anthology of collaborative writing from Black Lawrence Press. One can find him on Instagram @docfaizan or on SoundCloud at https://soundcloud.com/docfaizan.

*****

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 20

Among the many issues that need to be tackled in this country, domestic violence and sexual assault have to be considered two of the most pressing. This powerful poem by Terri Muuss, in a video directed and edited by Rainer Pasca, is the clarion call to the 46th President to the continue the leadership role and action he undertook during the Obama administration.
CW;TW: sexual assault.

©Terri Muuss – 2020; 2021

*****

Poem originally published in “Godspine” by 3:A Taos Press. (Available from publisher or directly from Terri Muuss at terrimuuss@icloud.com.
Film directed and edited by Rainer Pasca on IG @rainer.raps.

Ms. Muuss is also on IG as @terri.talks and can be found at www.terrimuuss.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 19

If yesterday’s poem zoomed in on current events, and traced a through line in history, today’s piece by Daniel Olsson shows how that history, forgotten or ignored, seeps into today.

Blinded by Bitterness

 Shallow in the sands of shame,
 Meaner with memory of might,
 My nation danced with the songs of sin,
 My people were blinded by bitter sight…
 We killed the inclusive innocent,
 We froze children in the cold,
 We witnessed death by paralyzing police,
 We had no children left to hold…
 What does old master have to say?
 No award for fate of finishing the song,
 To worship a flag while crying at an anthem,
 Our conservative half could do no wrong….
 I cried for the people living in the past,
 Artificial muscles with disposable spines,
 This country was a true coloring book,
 They were too scared to draw within the lines… 

©Daniel Olsson – 2021

*****

Daniel Olsson is a poet from Bloomington, Indiana who has been writing poetry for the past eight years. Daniel’s writing revolves around contemporary society, including the topics of economic inequality, environmental justice, social issues and international relations. He can be found on Instagram and Tumblr as @apoeticcookie

*****

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 18

Poet Faizan Syed returns with a call to action. This powerful prose poem, full of protest and proclamation, is a rallying cry.

 
   Arrest the police. Arrest the police and arrest the white men who think they are invincible and arrest anyone who makes them invincible. Fuck Trump. To blame him alone, however, is to ignore the scope of this harsh, dystopian wasteland we find ourselves in. These crimes against humanity were forewarned. In Charlottesville. In the racist rallies. In the conspiratorial hatred. In the debates. This is the new Red Scare. This is blood. In a rotunda full of dicks, the police managed only to shoot & kill a woman? As if she was the most threatening? Sounds about right. Bros before hos, right? Fuck the bro-lice. Fuck their complacency. Fuck their blatant injustice. Fuck their ignorance. Fuck their guns.  Fuck their racist mercy. Fuck their Trump-loving asslicking leaders. Fuck their selective extremism. Fuck their fear.

   They should have to answer for their organized crime. These violent rioters have been vindicated. How dare the police protect them? How dare Trump validate their frustration? How dare Trump celebrate violence in his name? How dare he refuse to acknowledge the trauma that the legislators endured - lawmakers who blindly followed and protected him, only to be betrayed yet again? How dare he traumatize us all? The white man must be buoyed by a force field of narcissistic invulnerability. The white man who storms the Capitol and claims it for himself is declaring his own impotence. The white man wouldn’t dare to pull this shit if he knew what the black man knew. It’s clear now that lives are on the line. It’s clear now that Trump’s power has broken something in us, has released our own personal hellhounds & demons. It’s clear now that Trump would rather watch people die and cower in fear for his name, because in his delusional reality of pure denial and paranoid projection of unprecedented scale, he is fighting a war and he knows only one way to win. The way of the coward. The way of the white man. Threaten. Deny. Stoke hatred. Incite violence. Colonize. Praise God, or at least praise the Dark Lord, and justify everything with a barrage of lawsuits and finger-pointing. Justify the unjustifiable by claiming ownership of justice. 
 
   Silly white man. Everything you have was taken from someone else. Everything you claim is silly. You can’t own the people of a nation. You can’t own liberty, or citizenship, or the law. You can’t own reality, no matter how many idiots you rally. You can’t even claim responsibility for yourself. You put the baby in baby boomer. You are helpless. Yet your tantrums are dangerous. Your words carry the weight of guillotines. Your beliefs literally endanger lives. America, you have been threatened, you have been brought to your knees. Now you can’t claim that you were ever great. You can only claim that the white man would rather destroy the democracy he once held dear because he’s convinced he is the only one who owned it in the first place. You can only claim that the white man considers you his bitch. His slave. America, we are not the land of the free, we are not home to the brave. America you are homeless. America you are loved almost as much as you are hated.  

   We are the minorities and we are the oppressed. We are the truth-seekers and the truth-keepers. You need us now more than ever, America. You can’t survive without us. So let us in and let us be heard. Let us rebuild the tatters of your broken mind. Let us grieve the loss of your sanity, America. We can be the antidote, we can be the medicine you need, but you have to protect us too America. Protect us from yourself. Because the white man hasn’t gone anywhere. He got to go home. While our brothers and sisters still lay rotting in your prisons. We are crying out for justice, America. We are here and we know how to protest peacefully, even though we are still more likely to get killed in the process. We are here and we are your lifeblood. We will change you for the better, America. And some of us will literally die trying. Just like Malcolm X. Just like Martin Luther King Jr. Just like JFK. Just like George Floyd. We are not giving up in our fight against white supremacy. Your mask is slipping, America. You’re teetering on the borderline and you are staring down the brink of psychosis. Listen to the sound of our voice, America. Trust us. Come back to us, America. We got you.
   

©Faizan Syed – 2021

*****

Faizan Syed, MD is a writer, musician, and psychiatrist based in Queens, NY and is a member of the Queens Poetic Alchemy Collective. He was awarded the Folger Adams Jr. Prize for 1st place in Poetry and the Graduating Poet’s Award from the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. He has been featured on Humans of New York. Faizan’s work has appeared in Montage Literary Arts Journal, Newtown Literary, Cosmonauts Ave, & Empty Mirror. Poems he’s written in collaboration with Matthew DeMarco have been published in Jet Fuel Review, Dogbird Journal, and “They Said,” an anthology of collaborative writing from Black Lawrence Press. One can find him on Instagram @docfaizan or on SoundCloud at https://soundcloud.com/docfaizan.

*****

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 17

Spoken word artist Lloyd Garrison is back again, this time reminding us of something we often forget or deliberately ignore. Everyone is living a story, the full details of which aren’t always obvious. And everyone faces struggles and difficulties that we don’t, and can’t possibly know. Mr. Garrison gives at least one view of how we can overcome these things.

This Hill

I am standing
on this hill,
locking arms with millions of brave men and women
of all races and different faces
who have given me
the motivation, determination, and support
to continue pushing forward
even when I could have given up
a long time ago.

You have served as my reason for remaining focused
on my journey to prove
myself right
and the doubters like you
wrong. 

To this day, I still can’t understand why they left me for
HIM
HER
THEM,
I kept going despite some people 
saying “I wasn’t good enough" 
or "I was wasting my time." 

I am not ashamed to admit there were times 
where I felt alone with no 
where to go, 
but your presence allowed me to see light in dark

I have respect for the man or woman
who is not afraid to humble themselves and ask 
for what they lack…
not everyone has their shit together
not everyone can choose between living in the suburbs
or sleeping underneath a bridge. 

The meal that defined my youth:
Fish sticks, crinkle cut fries, and orange soda
now represents the hill I had to climb to arrive at my today. 

Universities don’t give out degrees for overcoming adversity, 
otherwise millions would have plaques on their walls. 

I may not be in the terminal yet…
but the plane I am flying now has a destination. 
All those nights I stayed up wondering

how

if

when
 
were only setting my rise. 

You can wipe the blood, sweat, and tears off my face,
I knew my journey was never promised to be easy.
But I am on this hill
so we can stand on the same level…
I’m not saying I am better than you
or anyone else…
I just want to officially introduce you to 
the person you doubted for all these years
the person you said would never finish school while taking care of 2 kids,
the person you said would never come back stronger after that horrific car crash almost took me out, 
the person you thought was done once my ex-left, 
the person you placed limitations on due to my gender, 
the person you assumed was no competition 
because you confused age with ability.

I am on this hill to make the picture clear 
to you 
to your face.
I am not afraid, 
I am not less fortunate, 
I am not less deserving, 
I am not less equipped,
I am not less willing to conquer whatever obstacles you place in front of me. 

I am happy. 
I am the new owner of a bright future, 
a successful present, 
and a past filled with smoke.
I am leaving it
where it belongs: 
in my rearview mirror.

©Lloyd Garrison – 2021

*****

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.  

*****

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 16

Today’s piece is presented without commentary, with the poet Rafal Borynski offering his thoughts in the bio:

The Flame

To light a flame, all needed is for a spark over a torch to hover
That flame, it can enlighten and  inspire at any hour, even dire
Guide from a dark room to a darker alley to the door
Discover new desires
But before you rejoice in your newfound  power
Remember
Remember to hold that flame straight
For even a quiver of your wrist in the face of bad weather
Or the thought that, as the torch-bearer, you have every right to be higher
And that pure lantern, touching even just a piece of paper
Becomes a funeral pyre
No more a sacred procession, but a trail of desolation good enough to cry over
That all you once knew would last forever is no more
Gone, all because you wanted more

©Rafal Borynski – 2021

*****

Rafal  Borynski is a teacher, artist, and metaphor developer based in Queens, New York.  He feels that a flame is the perfect metaphor for power; fire is beautiful, useful yet dangerous if not kept straight.  He is  optimistic  about the new administration yet  emphasizes the need to keep a watchful eye on all leaders, at all times, to make sure they “hold that flame straight.”

https://www.instagram.com/xcitynski/?hl=en
https://medium.com/@rafal.t.borynski

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCkqzli4nfffUaamXnJR2EUw

*****

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 15

In 21st Century America, we have a capitalism problem, which poet Daniel Olsson takes to task. How long will we value profits over people? How much, or how little, is a life worth?

Land of the Dollar

In my country,
The land of all knowing,
It costs a dollar to be human…
Those of elder wisdom claim they remember the day when a heart cost only a nickel,
Not an outrageous dollar…
A dollar must be paid to break the leg,
To shatter the bone and make the memory of pain nightmarish for moments on,
The poor cannot afford weak bones…
A dollar must be given to pass go,
The get out of jail free cards expired with the loss of the radio and the death of activist circles,
Those of the downtown neighborhood laugh at the idea of free cards,
Being an animal is always free,
Being human is what costs money…
You must donate a dollar to speak freely,
The illusion of your voice was the only free thing the schools will give you,
The bill-board tramples the alto,
A TV can rob their ears and give only eyes to see your skin-tone,
And the internet forges the bubble of dollar-filled admission tickets…
Please surrender the dollar for your vote,
Who are you to tell us how the world should turn?
No claim to fame, no parents of willing might,
Only a one-bedroom apartment and a bus ride to work,
Stay home and let the rightful pick the process of our future…
In my country,
the land of the free,
A dollar must be stolen to salvage today,
To breathe was never a right of life,
But a right of passage if you earned your dollar…

©Daniel Olsson – 2021

*****

Daniel Olsson is a poet from Bloomington, Indiana who has been writing poetry for the past eight years. Daniel’s writing revolves around contemporary society, including the topics of economic inequality, environmental justice, social issues and international relations. He can be found on Instagram and Tumblr as @apoeticcookie

*****

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 14

Over the weekend, it was reported that police in Rochester, NY pepper-sprayed a handcuffed nine-year-old girl–a girl shoved into the snow so she could be handcuffed. Of all the many, many things that need to be addressed by this new administration, at or near the top of the list should be monumental changes for the way we fund, train, manage, and hold accountable the police who should be protecting and serving us.

Common Contributors 
To the Breathing Problems 
Of the Average American

It is asthma.
It is emphysema.
It is COPD.
It is COPs.
It is the stench of GOP hypocrisy.
It is a high life of smoking.
It is an era of burning brush.
It is a lifetime of burning bridges
& smoking enemies.
It is the noxious haze of racism.
It is asbestos & ozone & mustard gas.
It is clouds of over-cooked coal
& toxic rivers of white fragility.
It is the fetid fog of the undrained swamp.
It is buses and trucks and traffic jams.
It is planes, trains, & autoerotic asphyxiation.
It is vehicular & respiratory congestion 
with congestion prices to pay.
It is oleoresin capsicum; it is mace & capsaicin.
It is the foul fumes of the rotting corpses of theirstory.
It is the brume of brutality, the corrupt cop pollution.
It is chlorobenzylidene malononitrile.
It is the smoke & smog of privilege.
It is the murk & must of injustice for just us.
It is the peasoup of oppression.

It is the noose.
It is the knee.
It is the nation.

© David Siller 2020

*****

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 !