Collective Unrest

 

America Laments in the White House Rose Garden During the Press Conference Confronting His Innocence

July 17, 2019

There, in the garden, face-to-face with a new era,
she topples over,

surrendering
her comfort to the rain greening her patient shoulders,

frost biting her hands,
wind brazing her lowered eyes,

truth arising
from an awakening in absolute stillness.

Yet, hot & hungry she envies him, his ignorance
of humanity’s divine despair,

knowing her quiet freedom,
is only for the moment in its peace.

 

 

Ariana D. Den Bleyker is a Pittsburgh native currently residing in New York’s Hudson Valley where she is a wife and mother of two. When she’s not writing, she’s spending time with her family and every once in a while sleeps. She is the author of three collections, including Wayward Lines (RawArt Press, 2015), the chapbooks Forgetting Aesop (Bandini Books, 2011), Naked Animal (Flutter Press, 2012), My Father Had a Daughter (Alabaster Leaves Publishing, 2013), Hatched from Bone (Flutter Press, 2014), On Coming of Age and Stitches(Origami Poems Project, 2014), On This and That (Bitterzoet Press, 2015), Strangest Sea (Porkbelly Press, 2015), Beautiful Wreckage (Flutter Press, 2015), Unsent (Origami Poems Project, 2015), The Peace of Wild Things (Porkbelly Press, 2015), Knee Deep in Bone (Hermeneutic Chaos Press, 2015), Birds Never Sing in Caves (Dancing Girl Press, 2016), Cutting Eyes from Ghosts (Blood Pudding Press, 2017), Scars are Memories Bleeding Through (Yavanika Press, 2018), A Bridge of You (Origami Poems Project, 2019), Even the Statue Weeps (Dancing Girl Press, forthcoming 2019), and Confessions of a Mother Hovering in the Space Between Where Birds Collide with Windows (Ghost City Press, forthcoming 2019). She is also the author of three crime novellas, a novelette, and an experimental memoir. She hopes you’ll fall in love with her words.

Please follow and like us:
Newer Post

The Spirit of A War Sleeps Beneath My Skull

(For Biafra) Separated by a wall of forty-nine years, I had no true feel of the war. No memory of what could have been disassembled into tiny visions, of planes flying & grazing the country’s landscape with fire, sealing the…
Read
Older Post

discourse

As I walk through the city I hear a stream of accents Eddies and pools of language Floating into my ears They want to stem the tide Dam the flood Newspaper headlines cry The nation has spoken Politicos incessantly repeat…
Read
Random Post

Sitting Zazen on the Downtown 4 Train

Wherever you are in your small corner, there is a train rolling through you carrying all the beings who have ever loved the dull colors of something or someone to life. And though the walls of your room may be…
Read
Random Post

How to Write a Headline Without Telling the Whole Story

Please click below to read Allie Marini's poem, "How to Write a Headline Without Telling the Whole Story," which was written using a newspaper headline where an unarmed civilian was killed by police (2015). How to Write a Headline Without…
Read
Random Post

Three Things You Should Know About Jarod J. Brinkley III

CW & TW for sexual assault   One. Jarod J. Brinkley III has a 6th grade spelling bee trophy on a shelf above the desk in his private room at the Quads on campus at Wesleyan, his first choice of private…
Read
Random Post

Obituary for the Mundane

I am searching for a way to die that does not make use of fire or water That does not make headline of my country ablaze or my children in sinking boats My people's blood is famous for its quiet…
Read