Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Jennifer Lentfer

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

This body is made

By Jennifer Lentfer

This body is made of resistance.

Its defiance muscle, its beating heart

--as long as it's beating--

is strong.

But not without its softness,

not without its brokenness,

which twinges,

it seems,

rather constantly

during a pandemic,

when this body is at once

utterly safe and contained and under threat and free.

This body is made of resistance.

The virus is not what can ravage it.

This body has tricked oblivion, and

erasure, and again and again

and it will again.

This body is made for its

place, this place,

until it is not.

Covenants with it, with the breath of us, have been

repeatedly broken.

Yet still it stands.

This body breathes and moves

and writes and cooks and

dances and weeps and shouts

and releases

with pleasure and shaking and prayer.

This body is here.

It is mine, ours.

And it will not recede in fear.

This body was forged by resistance.

This body was finally cherished

through resistance.

Let me not forget, this body

was born of love.

Listen as Jennifer Lentfer reads "This body is made."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Shooooz

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Oh, Angry America
By Shooooz

I took a walk round the block           today
feeling you

                                                    step for step

behind me –        it surprised me because

I was also seeing you

                                                       in parallel

behind my brother                a block away.

like Satan

you manage to be everywhere

when I quicken my pace I feel you match it

                                                               I imagine

it must be weird for you,                 who wants

so badly to pull ahead                             to find

yourself always a few steps behind

                                                          giving chase

                                                               by choice.

but like Satan

you manage to be everywhere

everywhere, except

                                                            in the lead

where you want to be

                                                                  instead

you paint maps in hot lead             charting a

path to your supremacy

                                                         uncontested

an empty playing field is the only one     you

consider fair.

so like Satan

you manage to be everywhere

and when I beg you to lift those hands off of

me                                                 or my brother

you raise them

                                in a mockery of surrender

                                                               or terror

you beg me

                              with laughter in your voice

not to hurt you         as you curl three fingers

to make a gun of your fist

                      lead ready to scream from flesh

and when I                      look down the barrel

                                        of your pointed finger

and when I            gather my nerve to charge

at you                          you are no longer there

and when I               look up from the ground

I find your steel-eyed stare.

‘cause like Satan

you manage to be everywhere

Split This Rock · Shooooz_Oh_Angry_America_Audio

Listen as Shooooz reads "Oh, Angry America."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Ayling Dominguez

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Will You?

By Ayling Dominguez

When he speaks in hyperbole it is legitimate

When I do it is

Unfounded

Exaggerated

Another language

Without basis

He speaks his mind without ever thinking twice

But for me, carelessness is too overpriced

Can’t afford not to crash test every thought

And maybe that’s just the way it is when

Meticulous planning runs in the blood

Same way my mother did in the mud

Waited for rain to obstruct border cameras

Render her a bit harder to see

Migrants got that shit down to a science

Because they know better

Know that for us, it is ill-advised

To roll the dice

That if I did, I’d probably get snake eyes

Even though chances of that are 1/36. 2.7%.

And I’ve only ever scored 90-above

2x the work to get half as far

And since it’s numbers we speak of

Oh, I would like to be counted.

But not the way you do

With two red hands’ ten greedy fingers

I am

too

much to be held

& not up for inspection from atop your high horse or watchtower

My fuller consideration

Requires your dismounting

Climb down

Count with your toes

Look like a fool as you attempt to

adjust, adapt — after all

We’ve always had to

Then again

Maybe I don’t just want to be counted, but counted justly;

Maybe instead

If given the option

I’d ask to be

turned into a tree seed

And planted

But only if

you would stop turning me into money

And only if

you would recognize and do right by Native family

Only if

You would

Adjust, adapt

after all

We’ve always had to

Split This Rock · Ayling Dominguez Will You? Audio

Listen as Ayling Dominguez reads “Will You?”

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Marlena Chertock

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Insomnia in a pandemic

by Marlena Chertock

You’re not sleeping well,

when do you ever. As a kid

at sleepovers, you were the last

to pass out. At one friend’s

birthday party, you laid awake

for hours in the living room

among the sleeping bags,

the snoring impossible

to sleep through.

So you climbed the stairs

quietly to your friend’s bedroom,

took the clock off the wall,

hid it in the bathroom.

The quiet, then, so soothing

you slept through breakfast.

You try not to think

about people dying

alone in their ICU beds,

that doctors wear the same mask

for days, forced to choose

who gets a ventilator,

try not to think about your disabled peers,

older folks, the immunocompromised,

who may be denied treatment.

Then you’re wondering

will you ever see your parents

again? How long will this last?

You just got groceries,

but consider buying more.

Make a list in your head

instead of sleep.

You try to picture the stores

in your neighborhood.

You don’t know if they’ll

all be there when this is over.

In 12-18 months

will they really find a vaccine?

There’s still no vaccine for HIV.

Why should this virus be different?

The speed all our lives changed

keeps you awake, reading the news.

Is a city still a city

with people stuck inside?

No cars honking outside your window,

no smiling at people you pass on the street,

it invites closeness. Stay six feet

apart, maybe further

just to be safe.

If this is ever over,

should the world be the same?

Split This Rock · Marlena Chertock Insomnia in a pandemic Audio

Listen as Marlena Chertock reads "Insomnia in a pandemic."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Tamiko Beyer

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Anchor in the Mud
By Tamiko Beyer

1.

They’ve gone with remediation.

Little bits of change

to refuse real forward. We need strategies

beyond bamboo strips: the enemy

is us, strange warriors

fighting our own bodies’ survival.

The sky breaks. I put on a coat

that burns like sun reflecting off steel.

After months of barely cold, I am comforted

we have come to winter, puff and wool,

burning dust, paint layers. Seasons’

pace now unpredictable, the blue something

electric. We hold our collective

breath long enough to become transparent

on this city built on landfill. We quiver

above a sea happy to take

us back into its arms.

Animal into element.

2.

We shut off the lights, fill the refrigerator

with jars of water. The shoreline that hosted

the eagle this year finally iced over.

The most brittle bushes crushed

under the snow’s weight: twigs encased

in gleaming ice like museum pieces.

If spring comes, we will take bets on what

sprouts again. Green becomes unimaginable

except in the deepest sleep.

3.

Boots and heels both

mine, all sorts of ways to go down.

Come up sweating. Blood and bones poised

to fight, queer defiance. These systems—

our relentless bodies processing

language, food, gesture. Come up

spitting. Defend, attack.

Do not leave money on the table,

solutions to those who hold power, your gender

to others. I keep my ugly

on, my girl close,

I keep the charge full.

Listen as Tamiko Beyer reads "Anchor in the Mud."

Previously published in Other Rooms Press (2017). 

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Lois Roma-Deeley

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Litany for American People
By Lois Roma-Deeley

Everyone everywhere

and nowhere all at once.

Inside the tv, there we are.

Or standing at the window.

Or through walks through the park

There we are, neighbor to neighbor,

gloved hand to gloved hand,

the untouching high five. We are

the virtual laugh from a computer.

The masked sighs.

Lonely dances in the darkened rooms.

We are the song of singing balconies.

The eyes behind plastic shields.

That parade of honking cars.

We are packages on the porch.

Or the single blessing at a funeral.

A hand chalking the sidewalk—

stay strong.

Split This Rock · Lois Roma-Deeley Litany for American People Audio

Listen as Lois Roma-Deeley reads "Litany for American People."

Poems of Persistence, Solidarity, and Refuge – Aaron R

We are each other's harvest; we are each other's business; we are each other's magnitude and bond.  ― Gwendolyn Brooks  

As we journey through political, economic, and global health crises, we turn to poetry to share truths that unearth underlying causes, illuminate impacts, and insist on transformative change. For many of us, today’s challenges are not new. The struggle of isolation, economic insecurity, inadequate medical care, deadly institutionalized negligence, governmental decisions that put Black, Brown, Indigenous, Asian, disabled, sick, and other structurally precarious people at greater risk are not new. Today, many more people are experiencing the vulnerability of these unrelenting issues. We recognize this opportunity for a heightened awareness of how our very survival depends on one another.

Poetry can help keep the flame of resilience, solidarity, and resistance alive in us. It can help us process and move through grief, anger, loneliness. Poetry can be a comfort when the most necessary actions are to rest and recover. It can remind us of what’s at stake, that our lives and legacy are worth the fight. As cultural workers, we know that culture shapes our political and social imagination at a foundational level. As poets, we can use poetry to map what is, what has been, and possibly, the way forward, including the reasons not to return to what does not honor and protect our lives, our communities, and our planet.

We asked poets to give us the words they chant to get out of bed, to raise their fists, to encourage their kin, to remind us, as this crisis does, that “we are each other’s business; we are each other’s magnitude and bond.” To read all of these poems, visit Split This Rock’s website.

***

Silver Lining
By Aaron R

President initially thought it was a joke

Corporations struggling and going broke

Churches starting to lose hope

Conspiracy theorists saying “stay woke”

Call corona an epidemic

Call COVID19 a pandemic

Everyone can relate because the whole world is dealing with it

Just because we are supposed to distance ourselves socially

That doesn’t mean that we can’t speak

Schools are closed but that doesn’t mean we can’t teach

Churches are closed but that doesn’t mean we can’t preach

Nobody said it would be easy, but this is the feat

And if we somehow come together, we will never, see defeat

I know, it’s easier said than done but if we alter our minds

The best lessons in life are learned after some of the toughest and roughest times

And after the darkest times is when the sun starts shining

Keep on grinding, keep on trying

I know it’s hard when people are dining

But eventually, we’ll find the silver lining

Split This Rock · Aaron R Silver Lining Audio

Listen as Aaron R reads "Silver Lining."