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Submission Guidelines: Send 1-3 unpublished poems in the body of an email (NO ATTACHMENTS) to nvneditor[at]gmail.com.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 sow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sow. Show all posts

Monday, May 03, 2021

BREATHLESS

by Peter Witt


A judicial inquiry into city officials’ role in the police chokehold death of Eric Garner—and what his family has described as a subsequent cover-up—is slated to begin in mid-July, a Manhattan judge said Tuesday… Gwen Carr and Elisha Flagg-Garner, Garner’s mother and sister, joined by a group of racial justice advocates, filed a petition in 2019 seeking a judicial inquiry into Garner’s death. —The New York Daily News, April 20, 2021. 


We reap what we sow,
more than we know,
breathe in the wonder
of all things that grow,
from children to forests,
from hummingbirds to toads.

In an instant of feckless harm
we raise the alarm that all
things, even mighty or small,
can be recklessly snuffed out,
trampled in the woods,
destroyed by human hands,
ignored by an uncaring heart.

Eric dared to sell cigarettes
on the street, when a cop
on his beat, took him down
off his feet, his life incomplete,
a gentleman who once
planted flowers that
he no longer can smell,
no longer can breathe,
no longer can breathe.


Author's Note: Eric Garner was a horticulturist at the New York City Department of Parks and Recreation before quitting for health reasons.


Peter Witt is a retired university professor living in Texas.

Thursday, November 19, 2020

STANDING STILL AND LISTENING

by George Salamon




"Something is dying, but we do not yet know what it is… Something is trying to be born, but we cannot say what it is either… The old is in a state of suspended animation; the new stands at a threshold it cannot yet cross,"  —Fintan O'Toole, "Democracy's Afterlife," The New York Review of Books, December 3, 2020.


I envy those who can
See the future coming.
It's easier to endure if
You are sure, or if you
Are needed, shepherd
Or sheep, but you must
Not get scared as the
Forces unfold, just old,
And if you're like me,
Left high and dry of just
What they'll sow or reap.


George Salamon writes a poem occasionally, but is worried much of the time about what his granddaughter's generation can expect. He has recently contributed to The Asses of Parnassus, One Sentence Poems, Dissident Voice, and The New Verse News from St. Louis, MO.