Relationships

We stand . . . .

lillian3 Comments

. . . on the precipice, fulcrum loaded,
solar eclipse of political moves.
Millions watch across the globe
piece by piece, light diminishes.
Cold suffocating hot air engulfs a nation
as vitriol spews. Lies repeated hold strong

Sleep marred by days of nightmares.
Innocents assaulted, banished.
Aid rescinded, innocents die.
What power are my words
when thousands follow blindly
refusing to call the man what he is.

User and abuser of people.
Expunger of honest history
repeating tenets of horrific history.
One-armed salutes
multiply behind closed doors.
We live now in a darkly evil tunnel.

Humans hammer on its cold metal walls
scream warnings sadly unheeded.
Spineless creatures grovel in the muck
lick the boot, kiss the ring,
subservient to an orange tyrant
who redefines the words “bully pulpit”.

Poem created and published
* the day after Harvard refused to capitulate to Trump’s demands for federal oversight on admissions, curriculum, faculty hires, and general University policies

* on the day Trump retaliated by freezing $2 billion of federal funds from Harvard including critical research grants to Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston Children’s Hospital, Brigham-Women’s Hospital, Dana-Farber Cancer Insstitute and Beth Israel Deaconess Mecial Center (all affiliated with Harvard Medical School).

*one day after Trump defied the Supreme Court’s order announcing in a press conference while meeting with the President of El Salvadore, that he would not ask for the release of Kilmar Abrego Garcia from an El Salvadore prison, even though his administration admitted his abduction and imprisonment there was an “administrative error”.

*and at least one month after Trump cancelled 5800 USAID contracts including some related to polio, HIV, tuberculosis, and malaria clinics in African countries. “People will die,” said Dr. Catherine Kyobutungi, executive director of the African Population and Health Research Center, “but we will never know [how many] because even the programs to count the dead are cut.”

Image made on Bing Create.

Crimson Lady

lillian19 Comments

Bedecked in faux diamonds, rubies and pearls,
feathered cloche hat, and white feather boa,
she appraised the milling crowd.

Her mark still absent,
she remained outwardly calm.
Inwardly, she seethed with anticipation.

Others tried to approach
but her steely cold stare
turned them away without a word.

She was clearly on the hunt.
The barrister would arrive
and only then would she beguile.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today I’m hosting OLN (Open Link Night) and inviting folks to post any one poem of their choosing (no required length, format, or content) OR alternatively, to write an ekphrastic poem related to the image above: Art Deco Vintage Woman Free Stock Photo in public domain.

AND I am also hosting a LIVE dVERSE SESSION with AUDIO AND VIDEO on SATURDAY, MARCH 22nd, from 10 to 11 AM EST! You can find the link to join us HERE. All are welcome! Folks come to read a poem aloud, or to simply sit in and watch and listen. We’re a very friendly bunch and the more the merrier. Come join us!

Still I Love

lillian31 Comments

Crepe paper streamers,
I used to string them
for birthday celebrations.
Now I have crepey skin.

Shiney brunette hair
blow-dried just so.
Now grey, held back with barrettes,
away from eyes with sagging lids.

I used to chase little ones
in games of duck-duck-goose,
hike glaciers
and dance till dawn.

Morphed by scores of years,
still I smile.
Time slows my pace,
cherished memories accrue.

I occasionally put on hiking boots,
they just don’t trek as far.
And I do dance,
but not nearly as late.

Most importantly, still I love.
More deeply,
more completely
with every passing day.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Dora asks us to write a “despite and still” poem. Photo taken two weeks ago on the heliport of Celebrity’s Constellation during our 24 night back-to-back cruises, including a TransAtlantic from Barcelona to Tampa, Florida. Thankful for every day.

Halloween 2024

lillian25 Comments

Promises glibly made.-
Lies repeated so many times,
swallowed by the gullible.
Round up the vermin,
ship ‘em all out!
January 6th  insurrectionists?
Patriots all.
Guard rails gone,
Project 2025 ready to go.
Convicted felon,
self-described pussy grabber.
If elected,
God help us all.

Quadrille (poem of exactly 44 words sans title) that includes a form of the word “promise” – today’s prompt at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.

The Bonus Years

lillian37 Comments

Celebrating
eleven bonus years.

This day, back then,
frightening.
Light and love of my life,
your heart stopped
for six interminable minutes.
Doctors, family, friends,
all tethered you to this earth.
I celebrate
every day we have together.

Thankful
to share life with you.

Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today we’re to write a poem of exactly 44 words, sans title, that includes the word “light”.

Eleven years ago this morning, George suffered a six-minute cardiac arrest. Because of what I call angels along the way, he is still with us, cognitively 100% okay, healthy and as fun-loving, kind, and wonderful as ever. I am forever grateful – thankful for every day.

Photo: George and I in Provincetown last month.

Words Have Consequences

lillian36 Comments

He sits. Drained. Alone.
Above his head, a framed drawing
of straight parallel lines
that never meet, meld, or blend.
Like no one cares.

To his left, folded jeans
stacked on a three-legged stool.
Three-legged for stability, balance.
A cairn he has created to say
I was here. I lived here. I worked here.

They turned their backs on me.
No one sees me.
Instead they listen to his lies.
I try to hold my head up.
But I’m tired. I’m so tired.

I see their belief in his lies,
the belief in their eyes.
The mistrust. The fear.
I sit numbed by hate.
I can no longer take deep breaths.

I felt hope in this country
I worked hard. I tried to ignore his lies.
But others believed.
Lies eroded trust until all around me,
hope turned to dust.

He sits. Drained. Alone.
Waiting.
For who? For what?
For you to make a difference.
It’s your choice.


It’s Poetics Tuesday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today Mish is hosting with a fun prompt! We’re asked to go to one of two websites she provides that feature record album covers. We’re then to choose one cover to inspire our poetry writing for today. I’ve selected the album cover for RM, ‘Indigo’ 2022. The poem is inspired by the photo album cover, and sadly, by the lies about immigrants told by Donald Trump and JD Vance – most recently, the lies told about Haitian immigrants in Springfield, Ohio.

Color Me Dead

lillian29 Comments

Psyche jarred by uninvited suitors
lips forced upon hers.
Anger fired pistons,
burned her soul.
Robot hand slaps on lipstick.
Innocent coral-pink and sweet rose swipes
turned crude in thick crimson slashes.
Dead autumn brown beside and above
brackish burgundy smears.
She mouths defeat.


Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today is Quadrille Monday and De asks us to use the word (or a form of the word) “jar” within our poem of exactly 44 words, sans title.

I’m delighted to be back, writing again, after taking a month+ hiatus when we were traveling. Somehow I ended up writing a rather maudlin poem for today.

Today’s quadrille is motivated by Irving Penn’s photo entitled Mouth, taken/produced in New York in 1986. It’s one photo of many that we saw in the exhibit, Fragile Beauty: Photographs from the Sir Elton John and David Furnish Collection, at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London.

Consumed by Gaze

lillian39 Comments

Beautiful but
eyes were always upon her.
Expectations lofty, demanding,
be they spoken or not.

To be plain
was her dream.
To walk in the everyday world
unnoticed, unknown.

She did not understand
fame’s fortune was its curse.
She never was on the inside
what the outside came to expect.

Demanding eyes
claimed rights to her body,
feasted on the outside
as her soul withered within.


Beautiful image/art created by Catrin Welz-Stein.

Created for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets across the globe. Today I’m tending the pub – meaning I’m the host for today’s prompt. I’ve provided folks with four beautiful images created by artist Catrin Welz-Stein and asked them to choose one for inspiration. They are to write an ekphrastic poem in the purest sense, describing the image OR use the image as motivation to create a poem somehow connected to the image. They are, of course, required to give credit to the artist. Go to dVerse, to see the four images available.

If you’d like to learn more about artist Catrin Welz-Stein and/or see more of her incredible artwork, go to https://catrinwelzstein.com

Black Woman with Peonies

lillian35 Comments

Fresh peonies, sir? For the lady in your life?
Bouquet of crimson and gold tulips
for your table, ma’am?
She walks the market every morning,
flower basket in hand .

Cotton sweater wards off cool breeze.
Delicately notched white linen collar,
embroidered in tiny stitches,
frames her stoic sable face.
Modest madras head scarf
reveals pomegranate-red earrings
hanging below her earlobes.

She approaches early shoppers,
queries softly. Hides her anxiety.
These beautiful blooms
her livelihood.


Written for OLN at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. OLN is Open Link Night when writers can post any one poem of their choosing OR use the optional prompt given.

As host for OLN today, I’ve provided an optional ekphrastic prompt. An ekphrastic poem is one that is inspired by a piece of art so today, I’ve provided the painting, Black Woman with Peonies by French Impressionist painter, Frederic Bazille. Born in 1841, he created this beautiful painting in 1870, the last year of his life.

Consider this an INVITATION!
I’m also hosting dVerse LIVE on Saturday, May 11th from 10 to 11 AM Boston time.
Folks from across the globe participate as we meet with audio and video for an hour. Each attendee is welcome to read a poem of their choice OR they can simply come by to watch and listen. We’re a very friendly bunch! One of the last sessions I hosted had folks from across the US, Pakistan, the UK, Sweden, Kenya, Australia, Trinidad Tobago, India, and Finland! If you’d like to join us click on the link below on Saturday, May 11th – beginning at 10 AM.

https://meet.google.com/pxr-nobe-oir

Hope to see you Saturday morning!

PS: if the link above doesn’t work, click here which will take you directly to the dVerse page that includes a direct link to the LIVE session!

Pollyanna . . .

lillian14 Comments

. . . that’s not my name,
but it could be.
A Pollyanna is defined
as one who is optimistic,
always cheerful.
Looking toward the sun,
even in the rain.
For me, a rainy day is a
make-your-own-sunshine
kind of day.
In today’s divisive political climate,
our world fraught with horrific wars,
our earth struggling
as humans threaten its survival,
all the more important to remember
the sun is always there.
Even behind the darkest overcast skies.
I call it hope.


Lisa is hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. She asks us to consider the words pilgrimage, walkabout, and wandering, providing a poem for each of the words. One option within her prompt is to “take a line from one of the poems and expand on it.” I’ve used the line “looking toward the sun, even in the rain” from the poem Walkabout by Caren Krutsinger.

AND, consider this an INVITATION to all who read my poem to join us at dVerse LIVE on Saturday, May 11th from 10 to 11 AM New York time. A link will be provided at the dVerse site on Thursday, May 9th that will take you to the LIVE site, with audio and visual. You’re welcome to join us just to sit in and watch and listen; and/or to read aloud a poem of your choice. Last time I hosted our LIVE session we had folks from the US, UK, Sweden, Kenya, Finland, Trinidad Tobago, India, Pakistan, Australia and Israel! All participation is in English. Hope you drop by!