Moon Ate the Dark Challenge: A Late Winter’s Lament – Samantha Tumblin

Samantha Tumblin – A hungry moon

Brave & Reckless

through clouded grey skies
crooked suns emerge — defy
knaves of nascent time

spring is in the air
blooming gloom from winter’s lair
Gaia in despair

daffodils lament
discarded petals repent
pollen tears descend

planting seeds of hope
‘neath the sheath of dead leaves strewn
snapping saplings’ bones

the moon ate the dark
starved for starlight ‘midst the stark
of man’s savage heart


Sam is an American poet and spoken word artist.  She was born and raised in Florida but has lived in New England for about 10 years.  She works full-time as a therapist at a psychiatric hospital.  Sam has written poetry off and on (mostly off) since childhood but has been writing consistently since 2019.  She has a penchant for employing rhyme and alliteration as well as for using humor, satire, surrealism and absurdism in her writing.  Her work often touches on themes of greed, oppression, morality, dialectics…

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I Die Every Hour/Within Irises

Kindra M. Austin – “if you’d let me near”

I

I die every hour,

watching you conform to

all the ideals

you were never meant for.

You were never meant for…

If only you would fall between my lines.

I write to you honestly,

my messy love, before midnight.

I love you truly,

complicated heart.

You beat against your cage—

rage against the cage built

within

mother’s womb.

Goddamn you.

I die every hour you deny me.

II

Would I,

if you’d let me,

count those constellations,

blooming ‘gainst daylight blue,

and dancing ‘round two black moons.

Would I,

if you’d let me near,

clutch your stars.

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The Daily Song: Ben Platt & the Cast of Dear Evan Hansen – You Will Be Found

Christine Ray finds a song with a needed message.

Brave & Reckless

Thank you James Corden, Ben Platt & the Cast of Dear Evan Hansen.  I needed this today.

You Will Be Found
Have you ever felt like nobody was there?
Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?
Have you ever felt like you could disappear?
Like you could fall, and no one would hear?
And oh, someone will coming running
And I know, they’ll take you home
Even when the dark comes crashing through
When you need a friend to carry you
And when you’re broken on the ground
You will be found
So let the sun come streaming in
‘Cause you’ll reach up and you’ll rise again
Lift your head and look around
You will be found
You will be found
You will be found
You will be found
You will be found
Even when the dark comes crashing through
When you need a friend to carry…

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Sharing Our Truths: Virus – Georgiann Carlson

Georgiann Carlson – Life goes on outside while we hide indoors.

Brave & Reckless

an invisible killer is stalking all of us
we are in lockdown
afraid to touch others
afraid to walk next to strangers
our social customs
have been turned upside down
our medical system is slowly collapsing
people are dying
hoarding food and supplies
the economy is in tatters
and yet
in Venice
dolphins are swimming in the canals
where the water is suddenly clear
ducks are playing in the fountains in Italy
coyotes are waking down our streets
animals are enjoying cities and towns
and air pollution has dropped dramatically
the earth is rebooting and blossoming in our absence
because let’s be honest
the virus isn’t the only killer around


I’m an artist, a writer, a vegetarian, an animal rights activist, and quite a few other things as well. I love books, cats, philosophy, good conversation, Chicago and the arts. So my blog is full of bits and pieces but…

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Pendulum

Christine Ray – Closer and closer

Brave & Reckless

the pendulum swings
back
and forth
back
and forth
tracing hypnotic circles
in white sands
drawing closer
ever closer
to my center
I wait
on a breath
knotted
with hope
with anxiety
how close
will its needle sharp edge
brush my world
how close
will loss
come?
the pendulum swings
back
and forth
back
and forth
back
and forth. . .

© 2020 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved


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Coffee Klatch

Christine Ray – An empty seat

Brave & Reckless

In memory of Lieselotte Porter 1925-2018

another empty chair
another empty corner
only resurrection
assured this Easter morn
are my ghosts
who brokers the
introductions? I wonder
as my past collides
into my present
room made at
my grandmother’s
round kitchen table
for one more
they drink Maxwell House
drip
Cremora and cheap
cut glass sugar dish
forgotten on the
worn flannel-backed
vinyl tablecloth
colors faded, surface
cracked with age
most of my dead
drink their coffee black
does she pull out the
bottle of cheap vodka
she carries in her purse
offer it the others?
Tell us about yourself
they ask
she talks about
her childhood
young adulthood
in 1930s Germany
her Jewish friends
and neighbors
who disappeared in the night
never to be seen again
mandatory service
in Hitler’s Youth
Kristallnacht
her brother who died young
in the war
they listen respectfully
over mismatched mugs
and cigarettes
serve her a cannoli
recommend the sfogliatelle

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