Stories by Meg on Medium

A Christmas Goodbye to a Toad and his Toadies

Resistance Poetry 2020.12 was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Resistance Poetry 2020.11

Meg — Fri, 04 Dec 2020 12:55:53 GMT

Markus Spiske

Transition

A pile of local weeklies sporting headlines like “Geiger Wins House Race” and “Miramant Reelected to State Senate” stared up at me from the tail of the check-out counter at my neighborhood market.

Consternated, I asked the clerk, “What’s with the old papers?” He looked at me quizzically. Then we both laughed. It was the Saturday after Election Day. The papers had been published Thursday, yet seemed ancient. The preceding four days had seemed like a month.

November seemed like a year. So much changed on a daily basis. Glad news. Bad news. WTF news. Despite the rapid change, it felt like wading through quicksand while being swarmed by greenhead flies.

Sometimes I hope we are in the final fifteen minutes of a horror show. Soon, the lights will come on, and those of us left alive with draw a deep breath. But mostly I feel we are in the first book of a trilogy, and there is so much more grief yet to come.

If you aren’t exhausted, there is either something wrong with you or you are a Zen master.

Not being a Zen master, I am exhausted. And exhaustion has a way of driving me to assess what I can change to make my life more manageable. So, here’s a heads up that there are going to be changes at Resistance Poetry:

I will no longer be posting links to poems on Twitter. I cannot begin to tell you how much I loathe Twitter. I find it a noisy, inane cesspool of self promotion punctuated by the occasional newsworthy item. Since ceasing posts on November 30, I already feel lighter.
These monthly compilations will cease as of the December 2020 issue. They are tedious and time consuming to create and do not appear to have performed the function I hoped (at least in a meaningful way): connecting people to poets and poets to each other.
RP will, until further notice, not accept new poets. Although I am occasionally awed by a new poet who contacts us, I have been finding the majority of those requesting writer designation are deadwood intent on earning some kind of Medium Merit Badge. Such is the wonder of social media.

I’m hoping these changes will make RP sustainable, because there will always be a need for a platform like this.

Now for our poets’ takes on the election and more:

THE ELECTION

Oh sweet lord no … can it be … Farewell to Trump!!!

Faux King, Donald Trump

Million(?) Man MAGAt March

It Didn’t Have To Be This Way

Mallory J. Dominic

Second Chance

Dougal Lorne

On Leman’s shore (Rise Up!)

This Pains Me To The Core

One Day Hope Says It Will Be

Resistance Poetry 2020.11 was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Resistance Poetry 2020.10

Meg — Mon, 02 Nov 2020 14:43:17 GMT

Kari Sullivan

Power

Trapped in a mist-bound guest house in Nepal waiting for clear weather, I was taught to play Bagh-Chal by a Nepali Wharton graduate. He was a wonderful and patient teacher.

Bagh-Chal is a game of unequal power. One player controls four tigers, the other, twenty goats. The tigers try to eat the goats by leaping over them. Goats cannot kill tigers but, using their greater numbers, can immobilize them and protect their own.

When you begin learning the game, being a goat seems a hopeless proposition. You are destined to be eaten and fervently wish you had been born a tiger instead. But, over many games, the truth is revealed. A savvy herd can beat the tigers. The weak and numerous can blockade the strong and few.

Democracy is Bagh-Chal writ large. You know who the players are. Chances are, you are a goat.

Do not despair. Separated, tigers will pick you off one by one. Work together and avoid becoming lunch.

And now, the perfect pre election day poem for America:

Roger Blonder

America the Beautiful

NEW POETS

Andrew Wlos

Haiku From The Protests

RETURNING POETS

Aaron Meacham

My Fear is an Old Man

I Never Much Cared for Halloween

Perfectly Round Circles

“I See Dead People…” “Where?” “EVERYWHERE…”

Is It the Apocalypse Already?

Mark Juhan

We called ourself a poet once But now those days undone Behind before chance glance eye-lanced The…

Past, Present, and Future

elenapoems

all that’s left of him

Hanging on to harmony

Bring Back To Me Bradbury’s Dystopia

Harper Thorpe

Doctor, Doctor, I Hate The News

…but no, not me, not ever

And Jesus Wept

Benny Neylon

Matthew B.

Trump announces …“Feeling really good! Don’t be afraid of Covid.”

https://medium.com/media/912b4731a54b263bda069c60eb1c0bd0/href

Patsy Starke

Emma Briggs

Rob Cullen

Resistance Poetry 2020.10 was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Resistance Poetry 2020.09

Meg — Mon, 02 Nov 2020 12:27:40 GMT

The Bustle

Resistance Poetry 2020.09 was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Resistance Poetry 2020.08

Meg — Thu, 03 Sep 2020 13:42:21 GMT

Bruno Nascimento

3000 Poems

Sometime in August, the Medium odometer for the tag “Resistance Poetry” rolled over to 3000. I can’t say that all poems so tagged were published in RP or which one tipped the counter. But, that’s a lot of verse as commentary out there, and I want to thank all the poets who are using their voices to comment on culture and world events.

When I was growing up, musicians and songwriters were the people penning resistance poetry, their views seeping into my split-level suburbia through the radio, opening my mind to a larger reality.

Given the state of the world, I’ve been disappointed in the general lack of push back-from today’s lyricists, especially headliners.

And then this:

NEW POETS

Laith Alobaidi

Is there someone missing?

Afiyah The Poet

Slow Life

Jessica Lee McMillan (8/20)

Radha Kapadia

Arundhati

RETURNING POETS

Going Blind and Seeing Things

I Sing the Song of My People

Michele Merritt, Ph.D.

A Perception Of Colour

The Survivors Of 2070 Plant A Dream

Dale Biron

Certain Comments On Social Media

I Just Subsist... ..!

Jane Woodman

It Didn’t Sound Political

Virginia Roces

Grant Me Free

Status Update: May 25th, 2020

Racheli Miller, Ph.D.

Resistance Poetry 2020.08 was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Resistance Poetry 2020.07

Meg — Mon, 03 Aug 2020 21:21:20 GMT

David Todd McCarty

Be Kind

My husband asked me, “Do you think you can tell who someone will vote for just by looking at them?”

I thought about it, about how people dress, their carriage, whether they wear a mask, my central casting versions of Rockefellers, Rednecks and Resisters. I decided I couldn’t.

“But, you know what?” I said. “I judge how people will vote by how they behave. If people are rude, I assume they are Trump voters. Not caring about other people is the definition of rudeness. And that’s the definition of a Trump voter in a nutshell.”

Be kind. Be safe. And enjoy this month’s poetry collection.

NEW POETS

L.M. Johnston

ENOUGH

Madeleine Anne Bognar

Not All Men

Eric Ozarowski

David Spero Rn

Not Going Back

Judy Millar

Scream Inside Your Heart

Bogdan Tiganov

The Heroes of the Revolution

Alexandra I.

heard, felt, saw, knew

Brandy Gonzalez

Take a Stand

Aikya Param

Representative John Lewis

R.L. Pinsonneault

Thoughts & Prayers

Mitchell S. W. Lim

A Love Letter to Resistance

Arundhati Vijay Shinde

It’s all, What we think it is!

M.C. Commander

No Thank You Disneyland

How We Choose to Care

Racheli Miller, Ph.D.

Paul Mullinger

RETURNING POETS

Eloise Davenport

grey

Jesse Wilson

This Is Why It Is Never Just a Word

The News from Eloy CC

Adam Millett

Matriarchy

Harper Thorpe

DJ Trump Sings “Voter Suppression”

The Masks Behind These Masks

Lines

Jonathan Greene

Virginia Roces

Stay Still or Rise

Anangsha Alammyan

If My Body Could Talk to Me, Here’s What She Would Say

Why Young People Commit Suicide

Alex Kilcannon

Keep Calm and Slogan On

Emma Briggs

At Least I Don’t Live There.

Sushree Soumya Mishra

Serenity in the midst of chaos

Anish

Lazy Old Jeans

For Those Who Don’t Lose Hope

Kate Hallinan

Quarantine diary: Day 110

Robin Harwick, Ph.D.

Tears no longer reign

Rob Cullen

Silence kills

Will Schmit

National Cancer Institute

James G Brennan

Meg

You Ill

Resistance Poetry 2020.07 was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

You Ill

Meg — Thu, 30 Jul 2020 16:49:35 GMT

In all honesty,
I wish
I could say
I didn’t wish
You ill.

But that,
In truth,
Would be
A lie.

Vengeance is
Not mine.
But suffering,
I could share.

As you pant,
Fevered cheek
To cold tile,
Dying to live,

Will you think
Of me,
Or someone,
Anyone but
Yourself?

You’ll never know
Unless you try.

You Ill was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Resistance Poetry 2020.06

Meg — Thu, 02 Jul 2020 12:30:27 GMT

Gare Montparnasse, Paris, 1895

Sorry

“Don’t be sorry. Just be more careful.”

That’s what a friend’s nana used to say, admonishing us kids after we pled “sorry” for some misdeed.

Those wise words stuck to me, small though I was. They were forward looking, aimed at improvement. What was broken was forever broken. No amount of sorry was bringing it back. The important thing was never do it again.

At the same time her words forgave us, freed us of guilt and taught us to be more responsible, I understood we would not have received them had we not been sorry, if we had not accepted responsibility for our actions.

How can you forgive someone who refuses to admit there is anything to forgive?

And that’s where we are, aren’t we?

So, enough of me. I’d like to offer you a prose piece by Max Smith which I feel is a perfect opening to this month’s theme of racial relations.

The Apology

Taiwo Adesina (new poet)

Re: i can’t imagine

Scott Overdyke (new poet)

Outbreak

Elizabeth Wilks (new poet)

Remembrance

Salma Amrou (new poet)

I Can’t Breathe — A Poem

K.M. Zimmerman (new Poet)

“Restless”

Larenz Brown

People Have Been Asking Me Where My Work Is

Jesse Wilson

Like It or Not You Are Part of History That Is Writing Itself Today

Efe Nakpodia

After Floyd, and May Weather

Spreading Your Golden Glowing Micro Scintilla

Jennifer D. Carlston

Pandemerica

unlearning a (color)blind god

The Plague

Kathy Jacobs

Here’s to a better world

Patsy Starke

Wake Up World

Kelli Nowers

Memorial Day 2020

maurice blocker

James G Brennan (new poet)

Change From Within Only Works for Incumbents

Noah Levy (new poet)

NEW POETS

K.M. Zimmerman (see above)

Taiwo Adesina (see above)

Scott Overdyke (see above)

Elizabeth Wilks (see above)

Noah Levy

RETURNING POETS

Harmony Birch

PRODUCTIVITY

Hank Edson

An Address to Humanity in the Time of Pandemic

Frank Ernest

The King Of Current Events

Keta Nachi

XI. Please forgive me it does not matter | Postcards from Kandbari

In the Garden of Delights

Fill this Blank. . . ?

Kathy Jacobs

2020 visions

Jean Carfantan

Fragments On Police Killings, Humanity, and Poetry as Praxis/Testimony

Rob Cullen

Resistance Poetry 2020.06 was originally published in Resistance Poetry on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Reconnaissance

Meg — Mon, 22 Jun 2020 12:25:06 GMT

Vengadesh Sago

Heavy bees
Fly low patterns
Over thirsty earth.
Prop wash dust storms
Scatter desiccated petals.
Reconnaissance for a
Pollen payload.

Summer Solstice, 2020

Reconnaissance was originally published in thewrytr. on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Resistance Poetry 2020.05

Meg — Tue, 02 Jun 2020 10:39:43 GMT

photo by Meg Barclay

I Can’t Breathe

Spirit speaks to us in metaphor, the language of the soul, the language of poetry. It is for us to heed the whispers, connect the dots, draw the lessons, act.

Rather than my words, I choose to lead with this piece by Ryan J. Petteway this month.

May you all stay safe.

White on Black

Max Smith

The War on Black Bodies

Ryan J. Petteway

AMERICA//Again

Nathalie E. Amazan

White-supremacy is an affront to the mystical story of American equality under the law; a poem.

Jack Herlocker

Don’t Let Fear Steal Your Freedom!

Jessica Gupta

Miranda Warning for a Citizen’s Arrest

Jamie McIntosh

Smothered

Ian Moulton (new poet)

Pandemic Poetry

Lisa Patrell (new poet)

“Hello” Is Broken

Alex Kilcannon (new poet)

Mother Nature’s Timeout

Onalenna Neo (new poet)

Washed hands, muddy mind

Sanjukt Saha (new poet)

How we lay, as wooden men

Muthita Kanwerayothin (new poet)

A Consequential Claws

Jonathan Greene

Paranoid

Edis Rune

I Felt Carnage, in My Brain

Sushree Soumya Mishra

Granny was always right!

Uday Jhunjhunwala (new poet)

Francine Fallara

The Hidden Cost of Inequality

NEW POETS

Lisa Patrell (see above)

Sanjukt Saha (see above)

Ian Moulton (see above)

Taylor Alarcón

Remember?

Jesse Wilson

Onalenna Neo

Love You To Cheat Death

Eloise Davenport

A city stroll with papa

Khushboo Patel

Why can’t I live the way I want

Alex Kilcannon

Not My Monkeys

Frank Ernest

How We Choose Presidential Candidates

Suzanne V. Tanner

The Creep Walking in My Direction

The Sense of Unworthiness

Keith Woods

Jamie McIntosh

RETURNING POETS

Michael Stang

Truth was Never Seeing

Michele Merritt, Ph.D.

Abercrombie and Fitch under fire for only offering XS, S, and Undercover Cop sizes at their retail…

Dale Biron

To Our “Beloved” Oligarchs

Rainbow Fume Headache

You’ll have to learn to walk!

Political Corruption

Jamie McIntosh

Catch them, if you can

Pablo Pereyra