It takes a
village to raise a child,
the proverb says. To hear a child’s pain,
sight and touch are senses to use in a deaf world
where no-one has bandwidth to listen
till it’s too late to matter.
High levels
built on trust and freedom,
this is how we measure happiness!
A 12-year-old takes matters into their own hands;
playground assaults a child’s dignity
while we mind our business.
Happiness
takes many forms, and who’s
to say I’m content than my neighbour?
Prompt 11: A child in pain for Write Right @Thotpurge
PS. Someone once said, “a poem is a record of failure.” I don’t know about that. However, I’ll say this is a failed or unfinished triquain swirl poem; the act of writing a poem every day is a measure of one’s commitment…*sigh
In any case, if you read or watch the news, you might have heard already that we had another school shooting in Finland. The poem is in response to this recent tragedy.
Can a poem repeat itself?
Humanity as an uncountable noun
Humanity as an uncountable noun and a state of being human
Humanity as an uncountable noun, a state of being human and a human kind to others.
Once again, eclipse-chasers put themselves in the path of totality
Yearning for rebirth in moon’s shadow.
Will it be the dawning of a new era?
For this is a poem repeating itself
In a world where laughter
Is the sole refuge
For humanity.
PS. Were you able to glimpse the rare solar eclipse yesterday, April 8th? Not in my part of the world. Anyway, an “important figure” who looked at the 2017 eclipse with a naked eye sparked the first poem in my latest collection, The Sheltering…
Prompt 9: Humanity for @Thotpurge
