© Jane Bled 2016-2017
All Rights Reserved
A slow molasses
From January’s sleep
Hibernating since mid-July
Fanning fingers over
Pretending we don’t care to see
But this is not
Who we are
Tear down the silkscreen
Behind the tapestries
Of suburban suspicion
Of culture clash
Draw from the hip
Author’s note: I bought a print of the artwork featured above at a recent local art festival. The artist, Mary Case, is legally blind. Amazing, what one can accomplish with the tools of passion, perseverance, and devotion to the craft.
Dedication: this poem is addressed to the former friend who betrayed my confidence in 2015. Every day I try to forgive you, to quell the anger that attempts to burrow into my heart to fester. Moving forward, I must accept that you know not what you did. I knew not who I chose to trust. Neither was I correct about the contents of the secret I told you, nor were you right to broadcast my misassumptions. When all is said and done, I still wish you well.
Side note: fandom shippers, lurkers, bloggers, and people of earth who don’t fall into the aforementioned categories — I hope you take pride in keeping the peace, rather than perpetuating meaningless war. There is enough ill in the world without adding to it, imaginary or otherwise. Do as you will, but realize the consequences if you choose to fight against people with whom you have more in common than you might think. I, for one, refuse to battle. The arms I bear are open to embrace.
Deeply saddened by the Las Vegas shooting. My heart goes out to the victims and their families. Also, to the shooter’s family. In times like these, relatives of the perpetrator are often blamed. The only person responsible for his actions is the shooter himself.
We grieve. Whether one believes in a higher power or not, the prayer for peace transcends religious boundaries.
Thank you for reading. Please take care.