poetry, End Days

All posts in the poetry, End Days category

1917 “Night of Terror”

Published April 6, 2024 by Nan Mykel

Obstructing Traffic or Exercising Free Assembly?

Both in court and later in prison, suffragists arrested on criminal charges of obstructing traffic demanded to be treated as political prisoners. They asserted that silent picketing and peaceful assembly were protected First Amendment rights, and that their arrests were politically motivated, as Mary Winsor’s sign suggests. Winsor was arrested twice, the first time on September 4, 1917, during Draft Day festivities holding a banner questioning why women had no voice in a government that was conscripting their sons. Recently released from Occoquan Workhouse after serving a lengthy sentence for picketing on Draft Day, Baltimorean Lucy Branham unfavorably compared the U.S. government to Tsarist Russia, which had earlier imprisoned historian and liberal statesman Pavel Milyukov.

This “Night of Terror” galvanized support for the women’s suffrage movement at a critical moment. The tortured prisoners included activists Dorothy Day and Lucy Burns. Some were left for dead after the beatings. They had been arrested for peacefully picketing for universal sufrage in front of the White House

___________

WHILE RE-READING THE PAGE “SECRETS” (top of post)  I found this one:
51. Quote from Stephen Jay Gould;s Hen’s Teeth and Horse’s Toes p 244: “We hold a mirror to nature and see ourselves and our own prejudices in the glass. ,,,Aristotle described the large bee that leads the swarm as a “king,” and this misidentification  of the only sexual female around persisted for at least two thousand years… He also  describes the embryonic separation of a unisex into male or female.  “The female course of development is, in a sense, biologically intrinsic to all  mammals. It is the pattern that unfolds in the absence of any hormonal influence.” (p 154). He discusses the peniform clitorises and false scrotum of female spotted hyenas, and crabs that have faces on their backs, (p 156, Norton, 1984).
Perhaps someone should alert members of Moms for Liberty in response to their charges of transgenders’ “lies.”
_______________
END OF…
We came, we tried, we fought
and ate each other up.
We lived and died by our own hand.
If two survived and met on a plain
would we hug one another
or kill again?
nan

NO TEST FAILS

Published April 5, 2024 by Nan Mykel

NO TEST FAILS

Students may, and theories, but
tests are hardy souls and tell
it like it is.

We have failed this test of tests,
that’s all. It’ll be back to
ground zero but minus us;

Someone or something else may
pick up the ball and run with it.
No…drop that metaphor now!

Sometime, somewhere, let there be
no such thing as power, greed
and competition. Maybe

get it right next time, although
if time doesn’t exist, when
and how? Not our ball of wax

to shape. We’re out of here soon.
It’s okay. The traits dealt failed
to mix, that’s all. We just flunked.

Glad to be taking A.I. with us.

Nan 4/4/24

Friend Felix Speaks Again

Published July 19, 2022 by Nan Mykel

4th of JULY:  GOOD GRIEF!

If you like pretty poems, please look away,

for here I lament decay, dying and death.

I’m not bemoaning my dying contemporaries,

who lately fall like old-growth trees in a forest.

Nor do I pre-grieve my own impending death.

 

My concern is for the fate of our democracy,

as it is doing a dangerous dance with doom.

Our precious political freedoms are eroding.

Our fractured center seems not to be holding.

 

Our democracy could be in its death throes.

Female bodily autonomy has been outlawed,

voting rights have been wantonly suppressed,

there is massive support for Trump’s Big Lie.

 

The Supreme Court defies the majority’s will.

Throughout our land gun fetishism flourishes.

Louder liars shout down the voices of veracity.

Violence grows, the environment degrades.

 

This Independence Day is a day of gloom.

Sadly I fly our tattered flag upside down.

Today I can’t sing Happy Birthday America!

In these dark days, I weep as I sing of thee.

 

Felix Gagliano,  July 2022

 

IF I SHOULD DIE WHILE I’M AWAKE…

Published May 13, 2020 by Nan Mykel

Will I go seeking absolution,

dragged down by the shackles

of sin in my swollen belly, or

ship out soundlessly from my berth

into the eternal matrix

where sins are but a fleet of

rubber duckies?

nm 2014

The Transitional Object – a poem

Published August 18, 2016 by Nan Mykel

THE TRANSITIONAL OBJECT

We were lucky, in our play pens

to mouth our blankies to ourselves,

connected to a piece of us,

still attached to the lifeline’s warmth,

its unerring stability

pointing to our own north star.

On the Road – A Poem

Published June 26, 2016 by Nan Mykel

Sounds carry. Tucked asleep into my first berth,

I have no ticket to ride, no known destination.

Black-capped conductors, uniformed and faceless,

pass silently all night down darkened aisles.

The gentle jostling of the carrier and its faraway

howling are fast becoming deja vus.

Baby has a mouse in her mouth, but leave it.

She may need the protein.

Sprouting myelin sheaths encoding both

memories of dreams and dreams of memories

pulse in concatenation with the tempo

of the great clickety clacking conveyor.

Faces of inaccessible passengers

flash past on other lines, here and near, then gone.

Zhivago futilely bangs on the window

for Lara’s attention, then terminal separation.

 

 

Nan Mykel  9-7-09

 

 

David for Dverse

Published June 10, 2016 by Nan Mykel

David                                DAVID

We always thought her meek and mild

until the day that she went wild

and fell in love with an antique Greek,

or should I say a Greek antique?

She gave a moan and then a shriek

that echoed through the whole boutique

and without a pause

with hands like claws

she clasped him to her ample bust,

moved not by piety I think but lust.

As a matter of fact he was scantily clad

and to tell the truth I think she was  glad.

 

 

POOR HOUSE BOUND

Published April 5, 2016 by Nan Mykel
Creative Commons

Image result for creative commons poor old couple image

(My library group came up with all of these prompts:) delicious, horse, croissants, eviction, pardon

POOR HOUSE BOUND

They decided to end it all—

This penny-pinching was no good

and so they headed for the mall

to see what their pocket money could

buy. Searching cheap yet delicious,

they hoped horse would be nutritious.

Two croissants finished the menu.

 Their front stoop being their venue,

the landlord found them sitting there

looking quite satisfied, of course,

after they spent the rent on horse.

With the eviction delivered,

the old woman shivered

while her man gave a booming  belch,

which he was unable to squelch,

saying “Pardon,” but his sly grin

grew and then got away from him.

 

FOR dVERSE BUT CAN’T GET ON THIS WEEK EITHER

Published March 28, 2016 by Nan Mykel

SIGH.fOR THE FIRST TIME THERE WAS A “magical widget,” and I had not the credentials or smarts to navigate the route apparently everybody else can. But I tried…

 

Haiku by Issa:

“Without you –
how vast
the cherry blossom grove”

 

My first halibun, and I had to look the word up on Wiki. Problem is, when I search

my mind and heart for a “you,” no one answers.  May be no one ever had that

experience.  The cherry trees are blossoming at this moment along the Hocking,

 

nearby, and I am a little sad, but it is night and cold and dark.  Maybe the sun will

rise as promised, and  I can be touched by beauty after all.

 

When cherry trees bloom

I know that the world is  still

alive and lovely.

 

Words

Published March 20, 2016 by Nan Mykel

 

 

 

WORDSstudy-for-the-head-of-leda.jpg!xlSmall

 

Words can TOUCH.

Words can chatter.

Words can tell you

what’s the matter.

Words can cut,

splice and dice.

In other words,

be not nice.

Lying words

I’ve come to hate;

Embers dying in the grate.

Empty words like love

and forever

go poof like bubbles

In bad weather.

So what can I say

when all is done?

Add a grain of salt

To everyone.

 

 

 

Nan

 

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