4      Blue Trucks   I hate blue trucks, he grumbled We’d only seen a few White gray and black Most colors that we knew   Slowly as we noticed Each week more appeared Blazing blue metallics He moans, It’s what I feared  …

I am the soul of a revolutionary fighter of India/ Listlessly roaming the streets of Chauri Chaura/ The pages of history unfurl back a hundred years,/ Mind rankles with the memory/ Of that cursed day when oppressed, supressed enslaved Indians/ Decided it was time to…

The harvest dust has left the air, The rain is all applause, The stage is set, if slightly wet, And garlanded with haws. The ivy whispers affably, The crows tune up their throats, The old man’s beard lights up his pipe Of tumbling tufty motes….

the divide Between Life~ and murder Is palpable   In a land That’s been My home   My heart broke When my child spoke   In the land of the free My rights were just stripped Of me   the right to choose should ALWAYS…

In my 20s I roared when I found out how much I didn’t know about the body I was born into and the tricks of contortion I’d learned to fit inside assembly line boxes made to my measurements   Who measures the men? A hundred…

As I wrote my poem A customer walked in I responded politely to his request He walked out It sent a sense of insensitivty That made me feel uncomfortable Wow wonder if it was a >>> Copyright(c)2022 Roxann Lawrence

The crow of a lone cock signals the break of dawn unleashing multiple crows men who had hardly slept all night roll up their mats, gird their loins, unsheathe their machetes and hit the bush path to the village square the town-crier had sounded urgent:…

One hundred years from now will we cry out at the ignorance of now? plastic languishing in our bodies, our rivers, our sea. the lingering melodies of mystics and creatives who begged us to see. some immigrated to new celestial stars, trying to capture what…

Hour – 4 Might she could ever forget that Blue moon night, When a smile on her face and even The imaginations were bright, Trolling on Thoroughfare with No worry and no fear, But who knew a trap lies waiting To ensnare, That debaucher came…

he is a perfect symphony played in an antique piano that has gone out of tune.