She shares my laughter and soothes my pain embraces darkness and celebrates rain. She’s the only person who accepts me for me. When I encounter a blind spot she helps me to see. I’ve never known anyone so strong and wise A stalwart soul who…

There were two of you?  Perhaps. playgirl and genius.  Both disrobed professor and viper, in a pageant So easy to judge because we love to judge Because you left behind so many notes. Asleep under the house, your hibernating heart cracked open with a chisel…

She writes gazes in metaphors, Using pen to paper as conviction, She throws shade beneath her shades, Choosing her words precisely, She cuts into emotional baggage of readers, before bringing it to life in moving imagery, Does she ever distract her reader from gazing towards…

You decide Was it privilege or pride? Poverty or prosperity? Let’s look inside and see. In 1924 Little Grace entered Life’s door. Tiny father Tiny mother Six sisters Six brothers All were giants in her eyes. Her life became bigger, to their surprise She didn’t…

Shoot her with your hurtful words Like a balloon, she will float up in the sky Cut her with your sharp actions Like a kite, she will, after a try, fly high Burn her with your hateful eyes Like a phoenix, she will rise and…

Her hands work the earth tenderly but without reservation. Once planted the long tedious growing season becomes a lifelong journey into the unknown. Weeds are many but the crop is strong overcoming the insurmountable to bloom beyond her wildest dreams. She harvests what others cannot….

Born in an open-air prison Raised with no freedom under oppression Her people calling out for liberation They fight with cameras Recording violations For the world to see To hear Their story She is Sahrawi. I met her in Europe Demanding justice from the powerful…

I knew her when she was a kid, remember when she and her brother won the 4H Share the Fun competition in McAlester, her voice, his upside down guitar. They could sure put on a show. My three octave range didn’t stand a chance. It’s…

I do not know her. Not in the sense “does anyone really know another person,” But in the sense “she lived a tormented life” “she was genius” “she eviscerated her soul, and turned it into poetry” “she was narcissistic” “she was severely depressed” “she tried…

Life’s Hero in a Pandemic, Poetry Submission #1, Ann WJ White My mother sits in her living room, polishing grave stones from afar. She paces back and forth on worn carpet, exercising her legs and mind. The photos she takes from the window highlight trees…