
Poetry
The language of longing
of dreaming
of seeking
of loving
of leaving
-gws

Poetry
The language of longing
of dreaming
of seeking
of loving
of leaving
-gws

"We get paid on Friday"
"I" get paid on Friday
I don't see anyone else's name on my time card
"We just need to work together"
You mean "I" just need to do all the cooking, cleaning, and caregiving
"We are in this together"
Then why do "I" feel like I'm doing "this" alone
"We keep doing the same things over and over"
"I" can only rewrite my part of the music
I cannot help if you choose to keep dancing the same steps
-gws

On the night I was arrested
Our argument ended when
You called me a
"Fat. Lazy. Black. Bitch."
Our children heard you
I heard you
I couldn't believe you said it
But I heard you
The words hung in the air like poison
Choking the tears in my eyes
Choking the rage in my throat
Time stopped
Suspended by shock
Each painfully silent moment
Accompanied by the roaring blood
Rushing like a raging river in my ears
As I stood in the kitchen
Eyes wide and mouth open
Speechless
Everything suddenly clear
As I stared at you in utter disbelief
It was over
It had been over
And with that final insult
Those four ugly adjectives
It became unmistakably understood
I was done
-gws

Your aggravated aggressive agitations
Make alarm bells clang in my body
Danger!
Danger!
Hide!
As my stomach churns
And my blood pressure rises
I'm exhausted from near-constant hypervigilance
You may not be angry at me
I may not be the cause
But I'm in the blast radius
I'm in the radiation zone
Perfect collateral damage
Victim of your salted earth strategy
Or perhaps your target practice
I am not your Linus blanket
I am not your heavy bag
But you would have me be those things
Often in rapid succession
Leaving my nerves discordantly vibrating beneath my skin
-gws
A very short story
It was a harrowing time for my kind. All we were trying to do was provide food and shelter for our offspring. We would hunt at night. Afraid of the light. Afraid of being seen. Afraid of the death that was sure to come if we were caught. We learned to be fast, but once you were caught, being fast was often not enough.
Our enemy was merciless. They were far fewer in number, but they had superior weaponry. They knew how to set traps for us, and worst of all, they employed the use of chemical agents. A brutal chemical assault devastated our community. It was an all-out extermination. Only those of us with the most protected hiding places survived. My ancestors were some of the lucky few.
Generations were devastated. Food supplies were unreliable as the chemicals contaminated nearly everything we had. We didn’t know what was safe and what wasn’t, and there were many times we had to take our chances and await the results. The truly desperate were often unwitting sacrifices as they ate what they could without concern for the result, figuring that they would die one way of the other so a chance to live until tomorrow was worth the risk of dying today. The days and nights were never void of the screams of the dying.
The time came for me to have my own offspring. Many of my brood were felled by the environmental toxins our enemies spread across the landscape like mines. The stores my ancestors left were exhausted and I could avoid going to hunt no longer. My remaining offspring needed to be fed. I needed to feed.
I waited until the darkest hours. The enemy’s camp was silent and still. There was no better time to take the chance at hunting. I stayed low to the ground and close to cover. I needed to know I could retreat to cover. As I explored the edge of our encampment, I saw a miracle. It was a white canopy of some kind that ranged from the encampment’s edge out into the badlands. We tried to avoid the badlands at all costs. It was too vast and too exposed to risk at any time. Cover meant survival.
I set forth to explore this structure. There was no lore about such a thing. Perhaps it was new. Perhaps more recent generations didn’t have a chance to share this discovery because of the war. Fewer and fewer returned from hunting these days. I saw another of my kind, younger and bolder than I. I watch this cousin move beneath and within this construct. After a considerable amount of time observing, I decided that the risk was minimal and approached the structure with hopes of a swift, rewarding hunt and swift retreat.
Almost as soon as I had entered the foreign space, blinding light flared. I froze as did the other of my kind. The structure disoriented me. I didn’t know which way safety lay in. I could only hold still and hope that the Great Dark would save me. Suddenly, the construct rose up. My kin and I scattered. Terror blinded me as much as the light did. All I could do was run in a chaotic pattern as fast as I could. Where was home? Where was the dark? Something splashed onto my back. It smelled of lemongrass, and immediately struck terror into my being. This is what some of our dying smelled like. I was having more difficulty making my body move where I wanted it to go. More fluid splashed down on me. My kin had already fallen on her back, the death throws underway. If I could only find the dark. I knew I didn’t have much time left, but at least I could die in my beautiful dark. I fell onto my back. I knew there was nothing else for me then. I would not be getting back up. And no one would know my story.
-gws

Please forgive my silence
It is not easy to converse
When I don't have much to say
Not for want of company
But for lack of breath to speak
I have been gasping lately
In pain
In tears
In prayer
Gasping for air in a chest too tight
On days when getting up takes
All my might
All my fight
Please forgive my silence
My burdens are so much to bare
I hold myself too tightly wound
For fear of shaking into pieces
And if I set my voice free
I worry what will become of me
-gws

Sometimes when I lay down my head
All tucked up tight upon my bed
I drift and float and start to dream
Cascades of words just like a stream
I wonder at this gift of mine
Delighted I can dream in rhyme
No two dreams are quite the same
My poet's mind did birth this game
Though rhyming dreams are often fun
It's time to call this poem done.
-gws

Do not pull me from this place too soon
This place between waking and dreaming
You see
The moon is singing
A song meant only for me
She sings of hope and wonder
I must stay here and hear her
Just a while longer
Embraced by her soft silver light
Her welcoming night
Full of mystery
Legacy
Lunacy
Soon she will set the stars to ringing
A cacophonous celestial pealing
Then I know our evening
Is at its ending
That soon I must be leaving
This glorious realm
Between waking and dreaming
Where I dance with the singing moon
Please
Do not wake me too soon
-gws

I don’t know what the New Year will bring
But I promise to wake everyday
Loving myself more,
To honor my own needs, and
To breathe life into the magic of my deepest dreams.
It is time for me to live an intentional life.
-gws

Another California Christmas
Is coming round again
And I find myself daydreaming
Of family and friends
The caroling and Christmas cards
Gifts amusing and sublime
Remembering the best of years
The best of Christmas time
No smoke this year to choke us up
Just filtered sun and chill
Lights and sounds and decor sit
Upon each window sill
A melancholy in my heart
I long for times of old
When life was not so stupid hard
When wrapped in silver and gold
Wherever this Christmas sentiment
Finds you this time of year
Crack open that bottle of Napa red
For some extra California cheer
Despite my humbug mood this year
I raise my glass above
I toast you sunshine dreams of joy
And immeasurable love
-gws
This poem appears in the 2024 edition of the Bards West Anthology.