This is the moment when monuments fall
To write another piece of history
That must be given equal weight as those
Who have weighed down our own stories so long
Memory is not only written on
The town square or other prominent space
Meant to keep prominent men in their place
It is written in graffiti stained hands
When a tag cannot simply be wiped clean
But its voices and names are reckoned with
Under the overpass as we travel
From where we live to where we are going
In one forward motion sometimes held back
By the weight of falling stone off the track
Tag: Sonnet
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JulyPoWriMo 2
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JulyPoWriMo 1
Since nothing here is ever accomplished
I guess I’ll keep on writing these poems
In blank verse this time nothing iambic
Seems to last very long—or so it seems
Nay it is, reader—I know not which seems
You refer to as I have only just
Enough left in me to cauterize wounds
I have no idea where they come from
Except where I am set apart from all
That dismays this world if it ever stopped
Listening to itself speaking nonsense
And liberating itself from these fools
Who saunter about like the Lone Ranger
Committing treason and expecting rain
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MayPoWriMo 28
Since days go by without a second thought
Of where we are or where we all could be
Identities defined by what we bought
We hide our faces so no one can see
The fabric of our lives is but a span
We hope is threaded through more future days
To live and know enough to say we can
Rest easy or at least avert our gaze
And cross the street as coughing cars go by
Not knowing what the next block has in store
Turns out we humans have enough to buy
When we can freely enter as before
The unexamined lives that were unkind
To all—oh well whatever never mind
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MayPoWriMo 27
To forestall doom it’s time to go full doomer
The plants I watered shrivel in their pots
I have been known to be the latest boomer
To say okay and then take all the shots
A hundred thousand stories now cut short
Depending on which zip code you reside
Let’s all go back to normal and abort
The inconveniences we can’t abide
It happens or it doesn’t—take a breath
This worrying does no one any good
There are some fates they say are worse than death
The plants are saturated with our blood
Then let this be the path to our disaster
Two months? Too slow. We should just make it faster
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NaPoWriMo 30
Each day is a circular struggle not
to remember the dreams I had last night
so that they may be continued still at
a later date when sleep returns to light
Escaping from the ongoing trials
brings new and undeniable sunsets
reflecting the clouds and turning spirals
of hopes and dreams later built on regrets
I have no wisdom no words that I learned
in this apocalyptic draft writing
if printed out they surely must be burned
despite the torpor you should keep fighting
for words to share in taking breath along
of what are we but song but deathless song
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NaPoWriMo 23
When I look on the internet these days
I see the things I’ve never seen before
And time it seems is measured by its sways
Just back and forth as if it were a bore
I cannot see the path we all must take
Until the facts agreed upon aren’t scarce
For news is real no matter if it’s fake
Disaster movies turning into farce
I’d rather read a book or go to bed
Prepare a meal with whom I call my home
Are words enough to say we have been fed
Our friends displaced too scared to be alone
This sonnet does not need a final rhyme
We have not world enough for us just time
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NaPoWriMo 9
(Weird Haiku Sonnet)
I long for the day
and it cannot be too soon
for this strange season
to revolt and say
the virus has left the room
no rhyme or reason
not warmth nor weather
or empty parkways with cars
that cover their face
consuming terror
with their windows left ajar
gone without a trace
mirrors we hold in our hands
unsanitary demands
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Winter Spring
Do not be dismayed, my dear
By delay of this spring winter equinox
For snow may keep us lost among the drifts
Or perpetually covered in love’s enormous gifts
That never decay nor melt nor barren tundra
Become what was or what may never will be
Let us love as we have known was in our power
The love that first caused atoms to collide
And brings us here to this imperfect perfect place
Wherein time’s face shows us eternity’s gaze
For trees though bare still breathe into the stars
And ghosts of winters past give echo moan
Our love still warms through even powerless power
And molecules collide with every breaking waking hour
Joshua Keiter 