have I lied to
about their right to expression
and their ability to be heard?
for this truth, I will find a way again
to fight
©Erin Croley
(from an #UnspokenEchoes Twitter prompt)
how many students
have I lied to about their right to expression and their ability to be heard? for this truth, I will find a way again to fight ©Erin Croley (from an #UnspokenEchoes Twitter prompt)
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I cannot scream louder,
cannot make you listen but I can act, and with my body, maybe you will see yourself unravelling ©Erin Croley (from an #UnspokenEchoes Twitter prompt) It was difficult to process the events that unfolded last night, during and in the wake of the "Ferguson Decision." So, I did what I do when I can't think...I write poetry.
this is privilege my city is burning and I, removed from birthplace, from the beautiful contours of conflict and friendship, am safely tucked away for the night... this is privilege. the internal convulsions reverberating through my body, seeking sense... this is a calling I cannot ignore but don't know how to let it escape (act). ©Erin Croley breath hitched
legs weighed down with a watery iciness resistant to any friction this is a different kind of cold yet I'm still drawn outside ©Erin Croley (from an #elixirpoetry Twitter prompt) I am not productive
within these blended confines of work and family and me, but I get to be "mommy" and that is almost enough ©Erin Croley (from a #HeartSoup Twitter prompt) In flight to Vegas
I decide it's the petite blond reading Nora Roberts and listening to unknown music through headphones from her pink-cased iPhone who is responsible for the waves of disturbing flatulence, so strong I cover my nose with my sleeves. winter mornings
with an air like mountains and fresh water should be stumbled upon in the space before coffee and savored until the bottom of the cup ©Erin Croley (from a #ThatPoetrySite Twitter prompt) I've been staring at my guitar a lot lately, wondering when I'll pick it up to awkwardly play again. I'm pretty sure it has started to stare back.
your song... construction-paper words "guitar" and "guitarra" beat a blue and yellow rhythm against your body like Kaki King, but dust across the fretboard and this blur of time have become your most played song ©Erin Croley (from an #iBlyrics Twitter prompt) Inspired by a good night's sleep and a quiet morning looking out the window with coffee in hand and kids in bed...
my body is flagstone fit together over once uneven ground to define this space, it is a stillness so divine it could be mistaken for silence ©Erin Croley It's a work in progress, just the beginning, but someone recently said "a poem is as fragile as a dream" and I couldn't let it escape without knowing more about it. hair curls wildly...with help of products
the world mine to shape...over firepit dreaming passions consume...from inside out but me uninhibited...(always craved)...is unrealized ©Erin Croley (from a #HeartSoup Twitter prompt) |
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©Erin Croley, Errant Intersection LLC
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