Writing is an act of resistance
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Fire Storm: Poem Beginning with a Line from Jane Kenyon
By Lynn Wagner Into light all things must fall, glad at last to have fallen while the crown fires burn and branches break, charred and brittled to the tall trees’ bones. Fall down from the sky fantails, so stumble purple swamphen along the shore. And day is night and ash is all while pyrocumulonimbus…
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Americans are rushing around stocking up on toilet paper
stockpiling tp, privilege, plastic pollution, Poetry, climate crisis, COVID-19, Marcy Rae Henry, carona virusBy Marcy Rae Henry In Himalayan India we used leaves buckets of water and our hands Best-selling tampons have applicators because Americans are afraid to touch themselves In Himalayan India we didn’t have tampons We used rags and pads but didn’t touch each other’s hands to say hello When wiping with…
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Say Their Names
Writers Resist is honored to share some of the many and diverse creative writings recently inspired by Black Lives Matter, systemic racism, police brutality, U.S. protests, and the gorgeous, global chorus demanding equity and equality for all. This issue includes works by Kitty Anarchy, Despy Boutris, Schyler Butler, Marcy Rae Henry, Dana Kinsey, Christa Miller,…
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Years that ask questions
By Marcy Rae Henry Black like me said John Howard Griffin and the world listened (Black like losing electricity) Black like me said Rachel Dolezal and the world blistered (Black like the plague) Black lives matter (now) say my neighbors (Black like squares on a checkerboard) Black is beautiful said Bill Allen (maybe) and…
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Each Day I Ask Nine Words
By Rebecca Tolin Less than nine minutes is how long it took to snuff the life out of a man a white officer with his knee on the neck of a black man in Minneapolis. Necks are not meant for kneeling mister officer. Necks are meant for breathing turning linking head to the heart.…
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Yes, All
By Sarah Sheppeck A Car break-ins were frequent in the city. Insurance only covered the damage if I produced a police report, so when I left work to find another window smashed, I simply left for the precinct. It was already dark. Trying to avoid traffic, I stayed on side roads and in residential…
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Dear Captain
By Jennifer Shneiderman after Walt Whitman O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip has just begun. Exit the door of no return – grim vessel of horror, the treasure chest, black gold, first wealth and power – America cannot go back. But O heart! heart! heart! the bleeding does not stop. Black men struck…
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oppression Olympics
By Kitty Anarchy you can’t even say a problem without someone having a better story than yours suddenly they’re the ones telling theirs yours out the door it’s the oppression Olympics out here but those doing the oppressing aren’t even playing with us down here they watching us fight over crumbs from up in…
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The Gospel According to Saint Bryan
By Dana Kinsey There was in Georgia a humble young man, jovial and curious, who came upon two others who knew the law and the prophets. Confined and detained, this man had no recourse but to run. Hunted, he must have cried out to implore neighbors for help, and sought shelter from bullets he…