What stays with me is the poem’s refusal to confuse shock with speech. The opening correction sets the ethical ground, and from there the language keeps returning us to ordinary acts that carry consequence, scrolling, hiding, retreating into property listings and fast connections. The real estate catalogue is especially well judged, cool surfaces masking fear, a syntax that mimics browsing while exposing its evasions. I admire how the poem allows indictment to grow from image rather than proclamation, and how the final turn toward shame feels earned rather than imposed. A steady, difficult piece that understands how quiet can become a choice.
Apparently we are all tired of the silence. I wrote An Eye For An Eye last night, an Ode to Kaden Rumler, college student who lost his eye to this shit show for peacefully protesting the murder of Renee Good. I guess that just pushed me over the top into being louder and not staying silent.
I honestly do not know how the average American is dealing with this, it must be such a sense of loss to see your democracy and society being sledgehammered like this.
Yes. And the truly frightening part is that 60% of our country simply doesn’t pay attention and probably has no idea this is even happening until it comes to their town. And it will. Also, the fact that we have exactly zero leaders who are actually doing their jobs they swore an oath to and are just letting people commit Treason with no consequences. I am grieving for the idea I had of my country that has obviously been an absolute lie for a long time.
I love this line, “the social media that isn’t very social.” This feels like a poem about exhaustion, not apathy. About what happens when the cost of speaking feels too high, but silence doesn’t bring peace either.
*Long exhale with a smile*
Reading this, and pieces like it, makes me grateful for spaces like this and for a growing community of writers who are willing to speak carefully, honestly, and without spectacle. It’s quietly encouraging to know that thoughtful voices are still choosing not to disappear.
Well said. I also have turned to my poetry to try and work through what is going on in our world right now. But I haven’t been brave enough to post it. I might just do that now. Thank you for sharing.
You wrote what I was going on and on about at the dinner table last night.
I think there’s lots of those conversations happening around dinner tables right now.
Nice one, Donna. Slowed me down and has made me think.
Thank you Bee 💚
What stays with me is the poem’s refusal to confuse shock with speech. The opening correction sets the ethical ground, and from there the language keeps returning us to ordinary acts that carry consequence, scrolling, hiding, retreating into property listings and fast connections. The real estate catalogue is especially well judged, cool surfaces masking fear, a syntax that mimics browsing while exposing its evasions. I admire how the poem allows indictment to grow from image rather than proclamation, and how the final turn toward shame feels earned rather than imposed. A steady, difficult piece that understands how quiet can become a choice.
Thanks so much for reading and your thoughtful comment, I really appreciate it 💚
It's crazy that this can be about to tons of countries. In fucking 2026!
I know 😕
Very good. Fellow Geordie here, living in Bali :)
Eee pet! Thanks 😊
I’m still trying to burrow and hide to be honest with you, my friend- but I love it
Yeah but I guess I have to poke my broken head and poor little brain out sometime- things look how you describe it
Sometimes we need to prioritize self-care so we are strong enough to help others when we are able 💚
Thank you for writing this. 🙏
Thank you for reading it 💚
Apparently we are all tired of the silence. I wrote An Eye For An Eye last night, an Ode to Kaden Rumler, college student who lost his eye to this shit show for peacefully protesting the murder of Renee Good. I guess that just pushed me over the top into being louder and not staying silent.
I honestly do not know how the average American is dealing with this, it must be such a sense of loss to see your democracy and society being sledgehammered like this.
Sending hugs xxx
Yes. And the truly frightening part is that 60% of our country simply doesn’t pay attention and probably has no idea this is even happening until it comes to their town. And it will. Also, the fact that we have exactly zero leaders who are actually doing their jobs they swore an oath to and are just letting people commit Treason with no consequences. I am grieving for the idea I had of my country that has obviously been an absolute lie for a long time.
We find our voices,
to assert “yes,” “no,” “enough.”
And also, to sing.
I love this line, “the social media that isn’t very social.” This feels like a poem about exhaustion, not apathy. About what happens when the cost of speaking feels too high, but silence doesn’t bring peace either.
*Long exhale with a smile*
Reading this, and pieces like it, makes me grateful for spaces like this and for a growing community of writers who are willing to speak carefully, honestly, and without spectacle. It’s quietly encouraging to know that thoughtful voices are still choosing not to disappear.
Thank you for this.
Beautiful!
Well said. I also have turned to my poetry to try and work through what is going on in our world right now. But I haven’t been brave enough to post it. I might just do that now. Thank you for sharing.
This is beautiful, Donna.