All the Rivers

from Jackson to Memphis, from Helena to Clarksdale,/
pour their stories into the Delta,/
their sorrows into the redemption of song.//

All the rivers run to the Mississippi.

~Clifford Bernier

Walk into the Light

Does everything get disrupted here? /
The light narrows, dreams wither, prayers become lost inside brown paper bags. // Prayers become lost inside brown paper bags when light narrows, /
When the imbalance of years that tremble before us – are hers,

You Too?

because if you were out there by your own volition / the court of popular opinion would quickly take the / closed minded position that no matter the circumstances / of any situation…you must have brought it on yourself – Patrice Smith

Forgot you

“I searched in the yesterday/
the reason why/
I can’t find you/
in my present. ~Adriana Rocha

Coda to Layla, for FSKB

“…and I’m thinking about being five /
with my toes on the edge of the curbside,” ~Lore Nissley

An Hourly Poem

So, what I want to know is /
can a poem get up in the morning, go to work, put in a good eight hours, / come home, change into its pajamas, have dinner in front of the television, / wake up the next day and do it all again?

Defining Whiteness

Whiteness isn’t the color of skin at birth;
/ whiteness is our system assigning uneven worth

Like Zen

Another fabulous poem by 45’s favorite, Michael Lee Johnson. Enjoy! #newpoetry