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Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com. No simultaneous submissions. Use "Verse News Submission" as the subject line. Send a brief bio. No payment. Authors retain all rights after 1st-time appearance here. Scroll down the right sidebar for the fine print.
Showing posts with label #RememberingSandyHook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #RememberingSandyHook. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 26, 2019

DROWNED OUT

by Gregory Palmerino


The father of a first-grade girl killed in the 2012 massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School was discovered dead in an apparent suicide Monday morning at a town hall in Connecticut, police said. Authorities said the body of Jeremy Richman, 49, was found at about 7 a.m. at Edmond Town Hall in Newtown, a Connecticut community that has been scarred by the tragic school shooting that left 20 students and six staff members dead. The victims included Richman’s daughter, 6-year-old Avielle Richman. Richman, a neuroscientist who founded the Avielle Foundation in his daughter’s name, studied the brain and violence. The foundation had an office at the town hall. —The Washington Post, March 25, 2019. Photo: Jeremy Richman, father of Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting victim Avielle Richman, addresses the Sandy Hook Advisory Commission on Nov. 14 in Newtown, Conn. (Jessica Hill/AP via The Washington Post)

The calm,
Cool face of the river
Asked me for a kiss.
                        —Langston Hughes

You think
you know the sounds
I mean. I’ve heard your news,
so come and listen to me now,
father.

Of course,
it’s nice to think
the old wind weeps in tune,
fire mourns, the earth and water live.
So what.

I, too,
tried to embrace
listeners of that song:
the child is father of the man—
it’s gone.

It’s gone:
the Romantic
poet’s imagined place,
or all faith in one’s innocence.
It’s gone.

I hear
the echo now;
it repeats a child’s wail,
sounding notes too dumb to ignore
they’re dead.


Gregory Palmerino writes poetry in Connecticut's Quiet Corner, where he lives with his wife and three children. He is a past contributor to TheNewVerse.News.

Friday, December 16, 2016

I'VE STOPPED COUNTING THE DEAD

by Jean L. Kreiling




She's not sure that she should suspend
her vigilance, but keeping track
has done no good, has brought no end
to savagery.  As she looks back,
it seems that nothing else has made
a difference either:  votes or signs
or marches or laws disobeyed
or protests sung.  So she resigns
herself to silent grief and guilt,
her anger now an exercise
in mute restraint.  The tomb she's built
from watchful tears and numbered sighs
commemorates too many shames.
Let someone else keep counting names.


Author’s Note: The title of the poem is a remark overheard from an elderly activist.


Jean L. Kreiling’s first collection of poems, The Truth in Dissonance (Kelsay Books), was published in 2014.  Her work has appeared widely in print and online journals, and she is a past winner of a New England Poetry Club Award, the Great Lakes Commonwealth of Letters Sonnet Contest, the String Poet Prize, and the Able Muse Write Prize.