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Showing posts with label legacy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label legacy. Show all posts

Monday, July 13, 2026

POLITICAL THEATER

by Jim Kelly


Cartoon by Gary. A Huck


When death darkens
the occupied space
of the political theater,

and the curtains,
somber and heavy,
are stitched with memories
of acid speech,

the audience pauses.

Not because the performance
was noble.

Not because every act
deserves applause.

Not because every wound
has healed.

The record remains.

The speeches remain.

The injuries,
the divisions,
the grievances,
remain.

Yet death changes
the lighting.

For a moment,

The spotlight shifts
from ideology
to mortality.

From victory
to loss.

From power
to the frailty
shared by every human being.

There will be time
for historians
to sort through the record.

There will be time
for critics
to weigh the consequences.

There will be time
for citizens
to debate the legacy.

But in the first shadow
cast by death,

when kindness is impossible,

Silence may be
the most humane response.

Not surrender.

Not agreement.

Not absolution.

Only the recognition
that death
has already spoken
the final line.


Jim Kelly is a California poet whose work explores democracy, race, caregiving, and social justice. His poetry has appeared in Litro Magazine, Urban Pen Magazine, Urban Poems, and other literary publications. He is the author of the chapbooks The Quiet Witness: Civic Poems of Power, Memory, and Conscience and Caregiving Through Poetry.

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

SHHHH

by stella graham-landau





in memory of Andrea Gibson 
13 August 1975 — 14 July 2025


quiet settles on the sheets
eyelids closed
one final rest

their smile remains
last memory last touch
last blessing inhaled exhaled

their passion lifts 
into the air around us
ignites our faith

their lines of poetry 
vine around our hearts 
their legacy already in bloom

be inspired
let yourselves lean into joy
dig deeper into all aspects of life

every step 
every breath
carry hope forward

shhhh
now smile
all is well




stella lives in richmond, va and has been published in The 
New Verse News several times as well as in regional publications. she's grateful for the wonderful poetry communities that exist, encouraging all of us to find our voices and share our truths and wonderings.

Thursday, November 07, 2024

TO THE PLASTIC I SHARE THIS BODY WITH

by Laura Grace Weldon


Microplastic Pollution Is Everywhere, Even in the Exhaled Breath of Dolphins —Discover, October 28, 2024



You and your kind have been with me since 

my teething toy days. Since doll faces kissed

and freeze pops squeezed from clear cold tubes. 

 

Since hand-me-down raincoats and Halloween masks. 

Since yogurt cups and zippered sandwich bags.  

You’re in my clothes, my water, my breakfast. 

 

I now know you’re in my blood. 

In everyone's blood. 

In our breast milk, brains, muscle, hearts. 

 

You are carried in the bodies of snowy owls and orcas,

bonobos and brown bears and baobab trees.  

You are exhaled in dolphin breath. 

 

You ride through air and oceans, ride through us. 

When we die, you will persist

for thousands of years.

 

We humans dream of leaving a legacy  

but not like this. 

Not like this.



Laura Grace Weldon lives in a township too tiny for traffic lights where she works as a book editor, teaches writing workshops, serves as Braided Wayeditor, and chronically maxes out her library card. Laura was Ohio’s 2019 Poet of the Year and is the author of four books. 

Saturday, November 02, 2024

A TEAR FALLS FROM THE MOON

by Richard L. Matta


AI-generated graphic by Shutterstock for The New Verse News.


Hideous weeds hide

in high grasses. Experts examine

lawns with satellites, surveil 

with drones, send in spies.

Intelligent eyes can’t locate 

the wild pests so tap-tap-tap 

go the buttons and neighborhoods 

are bombed and burned and stripped 

bare and young lingering eyes of flowers 

are cut off at the head.

I could ask a question of the wise 

pale moon in the thick evening heat 

but it’s dusted with debris. 

A speaker echoes…

         indiscriminately

                   inhumanity.

And I ask myself is this not a swarm

of bees in the making, generations 

of hate stewing, a turn of minority 

to majority, a dark legacy.



Richard L. Matta grew up in New York and now lives in San Diego. Some of his work is found in Ancient Paths, Dewdrop, San Pedro River Review, Third Wednesday, Slipstream, and many international haiku journals. 

Monday, October 02, 2023

DIANNE FEINSTEIN IS DEAD

by Marissa Glover




This is the truest thing 
you will read all day. 
 
Some people mourn
others will rejoice
 
some write about legacy
others, swaths of destruction.
 
It happens every time.
Rush Limbaugh, bin Laden—
 
the women/witches at Salem.
What you see always depends 
 
on where you stand. Just ask
the reporters taking notes
 
at Calvary. There were women
crying at the foot of the cross;
 
there were soldiers gambling
for garments. 
 
If you’re looking for truth,
you will not find it here. 
 
Not even consensus. Except
Dianne Feinstein is dead.
 
Be grateful. Elvis and Tupac
can’t even get that much. 
 
Witnesses of the same car crash
offer cops different details…
 
Who is right? It doesn’t matter.
Everything goes into the report.
 
And someday it will be you,
likely not in the news cycle
 
because you’re not famous.
The only people invited
 
to speak at your funeral will 
have something good to say.
 
But there will always be others,
ready with their own story.
 
The only truth: you are dead.


Marissa Glover lives in Florida, dodging storms and swatting bugs. Her poetry collection Let Go of the Hands You Hold was released by Mercer University Press in 2021. Box Office Gospel was published by Mercer in 2023. Follow her on X (Twitter) at @_MarissaGlover_.

Friday, September 16, 2022

SPEAKING OF LEGACIES

by Devon Balwit


King Charles III built his own empire long before he inherited his mother’s. Charles, who formally acceded to the British throne on Saturday, spent half a century turning his royal estate into a billion-dollar portfolio and one of the most lucrative moneymakers in the royal family business. —The New York Times, September 13, 2022


Your average Brit pays to inherit. Not he.
King Charles gets his tax free,
 
the pelf of the Commonwealth studiously invested.
You’d think working folk would grow disgusted
 
at the granting of titles to Saudis for cash, the off-
shore holdings, the real-estate profits,
 
that they’d line up with fists raised rather than phones.
Why should HRH earn 28 million
 
last year alone when inflation’s at 10%?
Are we really so suckered by pageantry?
 
Imagine the Crown Estate and the Duchy of Cornwall
liquidated, the money put towards ending global
 
warming. Now that would be a worthy legacy—
one to send cheering crowds into the streets.


Devon Balwit walks in all weather. Her most recent collections are Rubbing Shoulders with the Greats [Seven Kitchens Press 2020] and Dog-Walking in the Shadow of Pyongyang [Nixes Mate Books, 2021].

Saturday, April 02, 2016

BIOPIC

by Rae Leone Allen



Zoe Saldana faces criticism over dark makeup in Nina Simone film trailer. The actor’s casting as the legendary singer is in the spotlight again after the trailer and poster show a darkened skin tone and prosthetic nose. —The Guardian, March 2, 2016. The film is scheduled to open April 22.

                  
"Cause I see the face of things to come."
                                                          -Nina Simone, “Revolution” 1969

hollywood goddam.
blackfacing, caste
making muthafuckas.
consistent, blasphemous, boardroom,
behemoth muthafuckas. yall sholl got yall
ways. assaulting. can’t sing that blue black goddess no praise.

goddam: fatally, fundamentally flawed—blatantly missed
understanding. violence
in re-imagining.
herstory. hollywood, goddam. lifting
the leg, pissing. legacy dismissing. narrow lip-
servicing. herstory. them blackfacing,
castemaking, ofay muthafuckas want the glory. goddam,
zoe. a prosthetic nose.
really?

out of formation. chosen token
actress darkening. ignorance, arrogance
obscene. tweeting.

negro nostrils flarin’. pickaninny eyes rollin’. these muthafuckas
always stealin’. always a nigga lost, in the big
house. willin’. oh sinnin’ land: hollywood,
america: goddam. where
you gonna run to on that day,
blackfacing, castemaking muthafuckas?

not hearin. the word
she sang.
god

damned.





Rae Leone Allen is a child of Nina, Malcolm, Octavia, Jimmy and Audre living in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn.