"Wolf and Woman," Nikita Gill

"Barracuda"

That’s what we called her

Her favorite song-

Joni Mitchell’s  “River,”

Among many other acoustic

Melodies fit for a

Gentle soul and

Wayward spirit.

A proud Latina--

Beautiful with 
Flowing black hair,

Glowing brown eyes,

An exotic  face of

Olive and  Ivory.

She was warm, generous, and kind.

A hearty laugh gave way

To grand adventures of

Crazy-ass fun

Never a dull moment

Life was good

Until it wasn’t.

We heard the news weeks later

After she went missing

Her body—once strong and agile

Finally found 

In a gruesome state,

Common to all murders.

First there was disbelief, 

A reporter's account would tell

Of a horrific ending 

To this powerful force of nature

Extinguished in her prime—

A vessel now empty and

Decomposing.

Then we waited.

We’re still waiting decades later--

Questions still unanswered;

An assailant never found;

Justice never served.

“Oh, I wish I had a River.. I could skate away on…”

   "River,"

Joni Mitchell and Herbie Hancock

"On Hurt," Nikita Gill

"Nikita Gill on Poetry, Instagram and 

Writing as a Woman of Color"

 "You Oughta Know," 

  Alanis Morissette 

Firecrackers

Like Hell pelting a tin roof-

With tiny bursts of
Penetrating sound

And flame exploding,
Bullets pierce metal

And Flesh. 

The barrage, echoing 

Relentlessly through halls

Once full of life

Until a ghostly silence

Ultimately prevails.

The Impenetrable

Assaulted and Lacerated.

Glass and Lives shattered.

Children found hiding, their

Blood-soaked clothes gaping--

Weeping for

Futures lost,

Reduced to a 
Moment in Time.

Forever Victims

For all

The World

To Mourn

And Ask... 
"Why?"

**The preceding poem was inspired by a drive-by school shooting while teaching French/English at O. Henry Middle School, Austin, TX, back in the early 90's. One student was injured. O. Henry was on lock down the rest of the year. Security changed. Everything changed from that moment forward.

"The Wind Will Carry Us," Forough Farrokhzad

In my night, so brief, alas

The wind is about to meet the leaves.

My night so brief is filled with devastating anguish

Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows?

This happiness feels foreign to me.

I am accustomed to despair.

Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows?

There, in the night, something is happening

The moon is red and anxious.

And, clinging to this roof

That could collapse at any moment,

The clouds, like a crowd of mourning women,

Await the birth of the rain.

One second, and then nothing.

Behind this window,

The night trembles

And the earth stops spinning.

Behind this window, a stranger

Worries about me and you.

You in your greenery,

Lay your hands – those burning memories –

On my loving hands.

And entrust your lips, replete with life's warmth,

To the touch of my loving lips

The wind will carry us!

“The wind will carry us!”

― Forough Farrokhzad

"The Wind," 

Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam)

Run-aways

Erin Hanson

Woodstock '69-Janis Joplin

"Bobby McGee,"

Kris Kristofferson

"For George," Edwin Maldonado, Jr., Speak Piece Poetry Project

There is a light that we leave on in the living room every night before we go to sleep.
Some nights, I think it’s the only thing keeping me from running into the bathroom wall.
It makes the journey to the fridge or the patio or the bed a little easier
Other nights, it’s a lighthouse - a light to remind me that I’m not alone
That i am safe
A light to tell me that the rain or the howling winds or the darkness outside means nothing,
That there is always a flame protecting the silence.
Keeping the calm of this emptiness whole.
Now I just think of my dog
And the emptiness.

This morning I took a walk along the path where we would spend the first moments of every day together
He wasn’t there
I ran back upstairs because the light post where he would pee wasn’t lit
I’m thinking
I’m gonna send a complaint to the leasing office
Tell them that mornings shouldn’t feel unsafe
That this path shouldn’t be so dark
That someone wants to walk their dog today and this light needs to be on
They’ll probably type something back like “your concerns are important to us, we’ll look into it right away”
Yeah, it’s a service request, right?

I’ll wait.

When our loved ones die, the light stays on
They are immortal
Dead only when we stop talking about them
Only when we forget to remember
When we forget the ways they made us smile
I’m telling you, man
The other day I was so happy
I was walking down the street thinking about how great this moment felt
How the sun couldn’t stop shining
How they should be here
And my face lit up like a lighthouse
Three random people said hi to me
They smiled back

Some of you are smiling right now

Hell, I had nothing but green lights for five city blocks
And i kept thinking, man
I felt so empty ten minutes ago
And then i thought of him
And grandma
And grandpa
And david
And tyree
And al
And sheila
And shannon
And george
And i closed my eyes and said thank you
Thank you
Thank you
for the sun
Speak Piece Poetry Project, Austin, Texas