Published: 2 April 2026

These days, it’s murder for poets and singers

To those on the wrong end of a gun,
song is not a shield against a bullet,
poetry won’t transform a bullet into a flower.

But a song can shield the mind that pulls the trigger,
poetry can be the flower that inspires the man, the woman
not to pick up the gun, not to pray for murder.

What must we endure until words are found between
the mind at the end of the gun, the finger that pulls the trigger?
I long for the day we turn ourselves to song and poetry,

not continue this confusion of bullets and creation.

More Poetry:

Pun-aphors

A pigeon flew at me and made me duck.
I was excited by the bow and arrow, but I no longer get that quiver.
I wanted to write an alphabet in a boat, but I floundered at sea.
I got a dog and wanted us to have pet Latin names — he was going to be Canus, but my friend said “You can’t be Sirius.”

Your Evil Eye

Your evil eye
is much more beautiful
than the other one.

Your evil eye

WW#3

WW#3’s on, no one knows it
first one who says so — they’re the one who blows it
satellite views won’t disclose it
eleven o’clock news is on, but somebody sold it

Father and Child in the Water

You’ve taken her further than Mom would,
now, her giggles are sneezes and tears.
I look up from my book, see you splash,
try to scare the voracious horse fly

white cat

white cat appears at the head of the stairs
disappears as footsteps approach
white cat rests on the crest of the wave
skitters away across multiple planes

Northern water, once again

Get in the water.
This fresh lake bears no threat,
close to mother as you could imagine.

First steps seem simple,
but be deliberate. Step
into the lake, into the water, away

Related

Pun-aphors

Pun-aphors

A pigeon flew at me and made me duck.
I was excited by the bow and arrow, but I no longer get that quiver.
I wanted to write an alphabet in a boat, but I floundered at sea.
I got a dog and wanted us to have pet Latin names — he was going to be Canus, but my friend said “You can’t be Sirius.”

read more
WW#3

WW#3

WW#3’s on, no one knows it
first one who says so — they’re the one who blows it
satellite views won’t disclose it
eleven o’clock news is on, but somebody sold it

read more

0 Comments

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *