When the World Became Separated

Peppers

When the world no longer had to worry about rude cashiers
or those just having a bad day,
they no longer met the ones who brightened their day
or the ones whose day they could brighten.
When the world no longer stopped for directions,
they didn’t accidentally end up
talking to someone they didn’t know
or question where they were going.
When the world no longer dined out,
there were no more idle conversations with the servers
who didn’t sing for their supper
but auditioned for their livelihood.
When the world no longer went to the movies,
there was no sharing the laughter,
no need for applause,
or even the opportunity to be collectively embarrassed
when something sexually explicit
reared its ugly head.
When the world learned how to make great coffee
and internet access was affordable to all,
coffee shop conversation,
like water cooler talk,
disappeared,
When the parents became the only teachers,
the only children became little adults,
and those with siblings did not learn how to make friends
beyond their bloodline;
for those who did venture into this brave new world
of shared spaces,
while covering their identity and keeping their distance,
saw others not as possible friends
but as carriers of the unseen
that could take their life.
When the world no longer needed to see the faces of those
who had not been filtered through their social media preferences,
they only saw the caricatures on TV—
the programming that had fomented a second civil war
based on the first.
When the bridal showers with sexy gifts
and the weddings with trite toasts
and the ultrasounds with fathers present
and the baby showers with silly games
and the events with boring speeches
and the birthday parties with other children
and the funerals with sad, funny stories of the departed
and the Thanksgiving dinners with heated political conversations
and the Christmas parties with annoying relatives
and the sermons that humanized Jesus
as much as they deified Him
made everyone realize how much they missed just being there
amongst it all,
for everything was no longer happenstance
but deliberate,
and there was a sameness to the days
that made them seem longer but lesser.
Those who could withstand the isolation because they were not alone
found a new appreciation for what and who they had at home,
but those who were alone and susceptible
pined for touch and smell and being present
in real-time
with real people.
When the world finally became unmasked
and love in the time of COVID
returned,
those who had been watching the summer of destruction
through it all
would never see the world
as it had once seemed to be.

Micropoetry Monday: Opposites

Opposites

The Shutterfly edition

He took astronomy,
to understand the universe.
She took humanities,
to understand the world.

She filled cradles,
he, caskets.
She was young at heart,
he, an old soul.
They served their purposes,
with purpose,
if not on purpose,
for he’d inherited his father’s business,
& she,
a life of indentured surrogacy.

When Yankee ingenuity
met Southern hospitality,
they each felt superior—
the Reb,
with their manners,
& the Yank,
with their side having won
the war.

Poem-a-Day April 2018 Writer’s Digest Challenge #6. Theme: Food

Grits

A carpetbagger & a scalawag came to Alabama,
Sweet & Savory were their names.
When they double-crossed a cracked Southern belle,
who’d been banged a little too hard,
& a Connecticut Yankee,
who’d sneezed his nasally r’s into his hankie,
the Reb took Savory & buttered him up,
while the Yank plundered Sweet
as if her name was Atlanta,
for grits with sugar “just ain’t right.”

2018 April PAD Challenge: Day 6

Micropoetry Monday: Irony

When she gave birth to the daughter
who would cause her screams,
she did not know she was giving birth
to her own death 20 years later-
a death that would silence those screams.

She lived a life without regrets,
but then, she had no memory.
It was bliss.

Rhett
For if only he’d known she’d asked for him,
he would’ve never left Tara,
with Ashley alone & aggrieved—
Ashley, a milquetoast remnant of The Old South.
This Old South,
burnt & faded from Bonnie Blue
to bleached denim,
was now ashes that were
gone with the wind.

She was sorry she ever lied,
for because of her lie,
the lie became a truth.

For she’d wanted 7 children
& 1 husband,
but ended up with 7 husbands
& 1 child–
all because she had put
her husbands before the 1.