Editing - polished draft
Stone
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson
Before I could get my license
And learn to drive a car
Before I could walk across the stage in a cap
And hold a diploma in my hands
Before I could wear the white dress
With the buttons down the back
Before I could find my direction
And purpose
And what I was meant for
My body started
Turning to stone
And soon, I couldn’t move
Couldn’t walk
Couldn’t run
Couldn’t reach
And even though I was still young
I would never again be free.
Last year I visited a hallowed place
I had been there twice before,
This place that reflects and honors;
A memorial no one should ignore.
Our nation's mall is the location
In the shadows of heroes past,
Tons of granite whisper quietly,
Our heroes names forever last.
Fifty eight thousand names are there
Etched for all the world to touch and see,
The names and dates of when they fell,
An epitaph of love, for all eternity.
Whereby yours truly presages and doth abhor
nothing short of an imminent civil war
dwarfing insurrection on January 6, 2021
oddly enough even reducing
ordinary decibels to a mute whisper
madding crowd trumpeting cacophony of ˈthȯr
drowning out sense and sensibility
allowing, enabling, and providing
golden opportunity for anarchy to run rampant
one issuing, earthshaking, and booming
as one collective soul with pride
where Lassie free to run across petco junction
All across the webbed
wide esse Scott's landed wold
emerald green Trifolium
carpets harbor untold
burrows of tiny Leprechauns clover
(leaf) ways grant trifold
wishes if captured might
divulge pot of gold
at rainbow's end, and e'en mend
yar shoes, whence re: souled,
Sometimes we talk about death
and all it has taken away. Maybe we'll find religion,
or look deeper into philosophy, or a similar comfort
to help us manage our grief and concern.
For now, we'll settle for what we have
together, among the here and now.
And maybe, just maybe this
will help keep the unknown at bay.
Dear SafeLink Customer,
(one of the many recipients includes me).
The Federal Communications Commission (FCC) announced that the Affordable Connectivity Program (ACP) is ending, and April 2024 will be the last fully funded month for your benefits if Congress does not provide additional funding.
They say wisdom is the gift of pain,
The lesson learned from what has been lost or gained.
The knowledge of the path that's a person once lead.
The thoughts engraved like a chisel to stone. Laying deep within our head.
My knowledge, experience my wisdom was once for told,
He knew before it did, But I felt it through my body right down to the tips of my toes.
Like a surge of electricity the thought came to me. "Don't travel this journey"
But in my heart I needed to be free.
4 a.m.
Written by Kelly Ann Wilson
If you’re up like I am at 4 a.m.
I wonder if you are
Rocking a newborn baby boy
Sitting vigil at a bedside
A blue-collar worker
A CEO whose car arrived for your flight
Young and free ravers
Stressing that rent is near due
Lovers
Lonely
Starting a 6 mile run
Or sick and suffering too
To those awake at this hour,
I hope rest will find you soon.
Written March 13, 2024
© 2024 Kelly Ann Wilson
Trying to think what to say
only this ringing in my ears.
Not sure I understand today —
certainly can’t see future years.
What I say may not be
exactly what you hear
if filtered through your pessimism,
past heartbreak or fear.
The past itself can deviate
as memories dim and drift,
perspectives and priorities
diversify and shift.
to repost poem
(I chanced to locate
amidst plethora of poems on hard drive
of Macbook Pro)
written more'n a half decade ago
before yours truly
blissfully oblivious to crypto-
currency shenanigans linked into
fiendish scammers after which
I (especially me button nose) didst glow
(giving Rudolph the red nosed reindeer
a run for his money)
whence rage,
on par with wrath of Khan,
whereby mine money
witnessed lightspeed outflow.
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