San Francisco Chronicle - (Sunday)
Readersubmitted poems
When I put out a call for poetry that reflects how the world has changed in the past year and hopes for the future, readers responded. The following are just a few of the poignant, thoughtprovoking poems I received.
‘Let It Rain’ By Theresa Tranquillo
Let it rain on me; let it rain hard, or let it rain soft;
I don’t care.
I climbed up Twin Peaks one overcast day,
When it had been gray for days and weeks and years and
centuries.
Gray like the lack of color in an isolated cell, with no
hope of escape.
Gray like eternal loneliness.
Up at Twin Peaks,
I lay on my back on the big flat rock there; and I gave myself up to the mood.
There was nothing I could do for myself; I had tried. No way to pull myself out of the annihilation of spirit
that I felt;
So I just let it be.
What seemed like hours later,
I realized that if I didn’t get out of the drizzle, and walk back down the mountain, that I would catch a
cold.
So I eventually dragged myself home.
Let it rain until it stops.
What else can we do?
‘Time Out … 2021’ By Elise Kazanjian
The future is coming.
No more little Zoombox pictures Inhabited by shadow people. Then I remember.
To make a shadow you have to have light.
The future is coming.
‘Cardboard Cemetery’ By Joanne Jagoda
I pass by them, on my way down the hill to Safeway, or Peet’s, names inscribed in simple block letters. Draped on stunted trees in the median or scrawled on cardboard “grave” markers lie in a makeshift cemetery on a small rise. excised by the cruel scalpel of racial injustice their hollow voices cry out to not be forgotten.
Oscar Grant, Elijah McClain, Botham Jean, Alton Sterling, Brayla Stone
someone’s lost child, someone’s missing lover, someone’s empty place at a family dinner. their legacy deserves to be so much more than signs that will wash out when the first rains come.
I stop my car and pull over for a moment, drawn to this ersatz cardboard cemetery. A curious squirrel scampers among the “graves.” I pay my respects, say a silent prayer sad for young lives cut short and sad for our country which has sunk so low.
‘Wear a Mask! Rap’ By Dr. Rona Hu
It’s really not a lot to ask, for you to wear a flippin’
mask.
Cover both your nose and mouth, don’t leave nothin’
hanging out.
You might think “I won’t get sick!” Come on now, don’t
be a pig.
Time to think of someone else, besides your one and only
self.
You might think “Hey I’m so fine, I just can’t hide this
face of mine.”
Time for instant karma ’cuz ugly is as ugly does.
You might think “Hey I’m not old! It won’t get me!” —
well, that’s just cold.
Time to think of other folks; this thing is real, it’s not a
hoax.
You might think that only fools would follow silly doctor’s
rules,
Know those fools are there for you when you’re stuck in
the ICU.
Sorry if I sound too grouchy. Ain’t no saint like Dr.
Fauci.
But we’ll only get through this, if ALL of us can just do
this.
‘There Was a Time’ By Andra Greenwald — for Liam
There was a time when hugs were just our daily greetings, and I could sit right next to you at school and during meetings. There was a time I took your hand; we browsed throughout the store. Shopping was such fun with you, this therapy’s no more.
There was a time I wasn’t gloved,
I’d never worn a mask.
Now, I don one every day, no matter what the task.
There was a time I saw your smile and whispers might be heard.
My face is covered up today;
I have to shout each word.
There was a time that hospitals and doctors said, “Come in,” before they needed every bed and coming was a sin.
There was a time when children could play in their friends’ room and build a fort or dress their dolls, and never download Zoom.
There was a time we went to work and coveted vacations.
Now we miss those long work days and covet healthy rations.
There was a time we met at five for snacks or for a drink.
The world has changed so much, so fast, it really makes one think.
There was a time that parties, and proms and weddings, too, were part of life, like eating.
But, now, there are so few.
There was a time in cities, and also in the burbs, we all went out for dinner, no picking up at curbs.
There was a time that field trips took our inside learning out. One day, I’ll show you pictures of what that was about. There was a time, not long ago, I told my neighbor, “Hi!” And didn’t cross the avenue When I saw him walk by. There was a time the theaters were packed, as was the mall. We had such fun at movies. Oh, how I miss them all! There was a time my haircut was a date I took for granted. Now, without my barber, it looks like weeds were planted. There was a time that flying was a simple thing to do.
It’s what I miss the very most because I’m missing you.
‘One Year Into the Pandemic’ By Sandy Tsai
March 15, 2020
Walked in the UC Davis Arboretum delighted by the spring with all my senses.
Suddenly, a dog bit me the white owner said, “I did not see you.”
As if Asians are invisible.
My ballet classes became Zoom
Didn’t want to dance with Zoom.
Dancers in the Dark,
Love springs to the rescue — pandemic style.
Niece Betty came back to Sacramento from Boston.
She brought masks, gloves, sanitizer, chocolate walnut banana bread, Mexican wedding cookies,
lemon drop cookies, lemon squares, and won tons,
Strawberry butter cake for my birthday.
We read “On Earth, We Are Briefly Gorgeous” “Beauty, I learned, was what we risked our life for.” Beauty is essential.
Betty found a new job in the Bay Area.
Pandemic kills but also brings my baby home.
My masked and socialdistancing piano lessons lit up my days, music is essential.
Love conquers all.
What we have lost we have lost forever, but sunrise is on the horizon.
A new hope springs, brighter and lovelier.
Because we now know how much we need each other