A poem about sanctioned, continued injustice in Emmett Till’s murder. Emmett Till is still — Emitting Whistling his alarms Up in arms From back in time From the back of the line Echoing the truth Homing in on lies Until worlds untold — Unfold. (DBD) 1955 Warrant In Emmett Till Case Found, Family Seeks Arrest Of Woman JACKSON, Miss. (AP) - A team searching the basement of a Mississippi courthouse for evidence about the lynching of…www.huffpost.com

A poem about a groupie who knows her child needs be put first. Original text of the poem below images for ease of reading.

A story of neurodivergence listening to everything and hearing nothing Memoir - Dayna Brown Dolan I know there's something amiss as I sit in the very back of the middle school classroom with my notepad and pen, taking…www.daynabrowndolan.com

This is a day* in the life of my mental illness… Disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, I don’t make recommendations, I just share my experience. If you need help, please reach out to your doctor or local clinic. Resources linked below the reading. Today, I woke up with an ache…

A poem — Glory begins in the musty Kentucky bluegrass Where the butchers are cutting down The trees for blood Then wrath moves to the mountains Moving mountains To be with the baker And they raise their kids With can-do attitudes And they show them candles & Sticks, & candles come in all…

a story of bipolar and PTSD told in poetry Today is three years since I lost my mind for the first time in forever. I blinked and thought I slept for days and would never be fully awake. I was told to make a list and listing went on and…

A story of bipolar disorder with religious enthusiasm — You’ll never know what you got until it’s gone Especially when it’s your mind — You’re unkind to yourself You put yourself down You expose a gamut of put downs About running about town Without your pretty head You want to get ahead You want to win at the game…

A poem for Black History Month (say their names) People on the street or at my daughter’s school Each one like a scraped elbow or knee A gash opening to blood and pale meat Eric’s police choke hold No knock knock jokes Just warrants No guarantee No warranting the protection No drugs under the rug Just some cigarette smoke wafting nearby Projecting the truths Marching toward unlucky thirteen A midnight the time that’s day and right

A lover’s poem — The eggnog isn’t flowing in the kitchen, But I think the aroma is still hanging out in there. Santa Claus is vacationing in some warmer place, Maybe the Bahamas. I’ve heard the islands are nice This time of year. I went there once and had a terrible time, But the…