People . . .

Some exhale fresh air
with every breath.
Others spew pollution
from every pore.

Some sow smiles
like Johnny planted trees.
Others hurl thunderbolts
of anger and fear.

Some believe in we
live in the our.
Others tout two,
us versus them.

Some stand tall
no matter their stature.
Others think small
no matter their height.

Some people hope
as they pray for the others.
Willing the others
compassion for all.


Shared with dVerse OLN today….the virtual pub for poets. Everyone is invited to share one poem of their choosing. Bar opens at 3 PM Boston time. Come join the fun! Photo in public domain.

The Tear Drop

If you insist, turn a deaf ear.
Tear thread by thread
cherished maxims from the cloak of civility.
Ye shall find a skeleton of pock marked bones
bereft of tear drops, wallowing in dust.

Some denigrate her promise,
hurl angry words upon that ancient crown.
All who first sailed round her base, forgotten,
as the brazen would douse her torch of hope.
She stands sentinel ‘neath a sliver moon,
solitary tear drop rung from stone
frozen on sculpted cheek.

Violence rips across city streets
sirens scream and echo through news.
Voices raise, fists raise,
and mothers fall on knees.
Not one tear drop falls,
it is a deluge that turns spilled blood
into rivers of salted red.

A tear drop
is the same color,
no matter the skin.

Bjorn is hosting dVerse today and uniquely is adapting the cubist movement in art to the art ofpoetry. He asks to to select a simple object, or common concept, and write several poems looking at it from different perpectives. Ultimately, we are to place the poems in an order to create contrasts and, when read together, form one poem.  Individual parts – also to be read as a whole.
I’ve chosen to write about the tear drop.