A GRIM FAIRY TALE

by Lynn White

Dozens of asylum-seeking children have been kidnapped by gangs from a Brighton [UK] hotel run by the Home Office in a pattern apparently being repeated across the south coast, an Observer investigation can reveal. A whistleblower, who works for Home Office contractor Mitie, and child protection sources describe children being abducted off the street outside the hotel and bundled into cars. “Children are literally being picked up from outside the building, disappearing and not being found. They’re being taken from the street by traffickers,” said the source. —The Observer, January 21, 2023 PHOTO: Hove, where unaccompanied asylum-seeking children have been abducted, according to a contractor working for the Home Office. Credit: Andy Hall/The Observer

When I was a child 

my mother told me 

that Never Never Land

Is where the lost children go,

those who can’t find their way home.

My mother told me that

they stay children for ever

and can play all day long.

It sounds like a fairy tale

and perhaps 

that’s where these children have gone,

stepped into a fairy tale

or perhaps

they’ve been taken into one

by a monster

straight out of Grimm.

And now they wait.

And there’ll be others

waiting.

Waiting,

for someone to find them.

Perhaps they’ll put up a sign

hoping someone will see.

And they’ll sit by the sign

waiting for rescue,

waiting for the fairy tale ending

that can never come.

Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality and writes hoping to find an audience for her musings. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award. Her poetry has appeared in many publications including Apogee, Firewords, Peach Velvet, Light Journal, and So It Goes. 

WHAT TO TELL CHILDREN WHEN ALL THE NEWS IS SCARY

by Diane Dolphin

“With war in Ukraine, editors help kids cope with scary news.” —News Decoder, February 25, 2022

We have failed you,

utterly.

 

We sold you a fairy tale: Once upon a time,

all children were created equal.

We proclaimed your bodies, your lives

as sovereign. Daughters,

that is no longer true. Black and brown sons,

we know it never was.

 

We have fiddled while the west burns,

the east floods, the poles dissolve.

We watched our elders succumb to pandemic

while we fought over masks. Lost

our children to weapons of death while

we debated the definition of

assault rifles. We wait ­–

we wait—as you are picked off

one by one.

 

Child, the barbarians have breached the gates.

The monster is in your classroom.

Dread seeps into your sleep.

Jabberwock has grown a new head,

is assembling his army of minions.

How can we possibly

console you?

 

You need to grow up,

quickly now. Leave us, the weak-willed

and stunned.

Take up your pen and shield, unleash

your small voices, amass in great numbers.

Demand we step aside.

You are your only hope.

Author’s Note: Above is a poem I wrote in response to the deluge of bad news lately, culminating in the Supreme Court Decision. The poem—and my title—is inspired by the barrage of media articles that always come on the heels of unimaginable news, and which are headlined along the variation of: "What to tell children when the news is scary." 

Diane Dolphin is a poet, writer, and former college instructor from Warwick, RI. 

WHEN PROTESTS COME TO THE UPPER EAST SIDE

by George Salamon





“In a reflection of how American cities have changed since the 1960s, demonstrations have included many wealthy areas.” —The New York Times, June 2, 2020


High-towered days in Manhattan
Crumble into ruins, while the silk
Curtains in the million-dollar condos
Whisper of murder and the owners
Wander restlessly through the rooms,
Hearing whispers of the tired old black
Men who served drinks in the rooftop
Bar, their eyes speaking of hardscrabble
Lives and the parents retreated to their
Children's bedrooms and read to them
From brightly-colored picture books of
America's fairy tales that once upon
A time bewitched them.


George Salamon lives and writes in St. Louis, MO and has most recently contributed to The Asses of Parnassus, Dissident Voice, and TheNewVerse.News.

IN FAIRY TALES

by Wendy Taylor Carlisle

Piñata by Dalton Ávalos Ramírez.

There could be a stranger with a poison apple.
There could be a girl who flies to an island.
There could be a maiden in love with a monster.
There could be a bluebird, a blue belt, a blue light.
There could be a chicken that predicts the end of the world.
There could be an enchanted pig.
There could be seven henchmen men scattered across three decades.
There could be a puppet with a nose that grows when he lies, and he lies anyway.
There could be a celebrity who runs for office.
That big name could know nothing of geopolitics or governing.
That man could make a mess of our habitats.
That man . . . but no, the tale is too far-fetched.
And how could we tell it to the children?


Wendy Taylor Carlisle lives in the  Ozarks where she Resists Arkansas politics and politicians. She is the author of two books and five chapbooks.

RIGHT TO WORK FOR LESS

by Paula Schulz

Gov. Scott Walker Monday signed so-called right-to-work legislation banning requirements that private-sector workers pay union fees, prompting one business to say it will add workers in Milwaukee and another to say it will expand in Minnesota instead. --Milwaukee Wisconsin Journal-Sentinel, March 9, 2015

Earliest morning, the moon a mirror,
the sky that deep, hopeful blue.  And for those
few moments all plans are possible.

You feel it--to walk into the world is
to walk into a fairy tale where the king
is a good man who loves the beautiful.

All the old witches grow backward into joy,
straighten up, fly right, drop glittering
educators in Wisconsin schools.

Every child is beautiful, strong, well-nourished:
factory and government jobs pay
a living wage.  Police and protesters

carry potato guns.   After they face
off, all gather ammo, take it to their
local soup kitchen, cook up a rich

chowder, pass warm bread, talk of family.
Governor Walker goes to Washington,
takes his dislike of the arts with him where,

despite his best efforts, a new WPA
is formed and funded and we learn again
each others stories, paint new portraits

of dignity, sculpt a strong citizenry,
paint with bright colors, polka to a new
American song.


Paula Schulz is a member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, a recent Pushcart nominee and an educator.  She is hopeful, blue.