ARTS & LITERATURE 2019
ARTS & LITERATURE 2019
If you were in Ho Chi Minh City it’d be 8:56 AM, and if she were home it’d be 5:56 PM.
If it were the morning you’d be sitting with your cup of coffee, and if it were the night she would have poured herself a glass of wine.
You’d be saying goodnight,
and she’d be saying good morning.
You’d be going about your day, and she’d be soon resting her head.
Once you’ve finished your day,
and one her alarm rang, she’d be waiting.
Once you’ve gotten your cognac, and, once she’s poured her coffee.
The roles have reversed.
Greer Nelson @_gruyere
I pulled three of my favorite things I have written, all after the loss of my father. The first explaining my childhood of watching my mom and dad do long distance from across the world. The second from the day he passed and the feeling of a last hug. The last from the feeling of loosing someone, 🙂 hope you enjoy!
Akua Abedi-Boafo @akuaaa_
This poem was inspired by Black history month. Black history month takes place in October in the UK(I’m from London), so I decided to write poems on this theme and post them every week. In particular with this I wanted to empower young people like me to remember their worth, power and their truth.
No matter who you are
or what you’ve done
the sun will still rise
and kiss your forehead.
My mind would light a cigarette at a family dinner
Or jesus camp, a baby shower
Better yet, a funeral, while wearing torched coattails and bunny ears.
a eulogy covered in Cheeto stains
and me, leaving the wake an hour early due to a headache and my need for wifi
a dark sense of humor was never a second thought
until I covered my laughing mouth with an umbrella instead of my bruised hand.
Get it? You zombies couldn’t contain the language I speak
mouths move rapidly, but still tongue in cheek.
as cheeks glaze with the color of rose petals
I march off to change into a bathing suit-
stand back before I perform a magic trick.
I’d pull a bunny rabbit from my jean jacket and turn
It into a bouquet of flowers for the grieving family.
Did you really think I would show up to a funeral without a gift?
Shirley Ramos @shirley.vr84
I wrote this in a sarcastic voice as I recalled on allowing myself to believe in false expectations. Hanging onto a cloud means to allow yourself to dream and have expectations. A transparent fall back to the ground could mean if you’re going to be expecting whatever it could be, expect to fall and expect to fall to the ground. It’s meant to be sarcastic but also, it could mean whatever you want it to be.
I love being left hanging onto a cloud,
a transparent fall back to the ground.