Saturday 5 February 2022

Three Poems by Dana Trick


 

Praise to Poetry


You are our first records

That describe the lives of our ancestors.

 

You are our first songs

That become our live-long lover.

 

You are our first stories

That blessed generations with entertainment and enlightenment.

 

You are our first therapy sessions

In time where the sciences were in the realm of gods and demons.

 

You are our first piece of art

That helped us see the beauty and wonder in this terrible world.

 

You are the first heartbeat of our humanity.



How To Write Poetry


Rip out your beating heart,

Drop it in a vat of multicolour inks until it soaks them all up,

Plant it firmly into the ground,

Wait and watch it bloom into a rampaging waterfall,

Prune out the wayward weeds and breaking branches,

Collect the beautiful yet out-of-place leaves for future seeds,

Kiss the petals kindly before you pluck them from their stems,

Then press the flowers onto a blank page.



Pens


They are might than swords for they are wands,

Continuously casting charms, curses, and enchantments

Of such velocity, vigour, valour, and power,

Of such beauty and horror

Made by such simple movements of the fingers and wrists.




Born a first-generation Mexican-Canadian-American autistic with ADHD, Dana Trick lives in Southern California where it is clearly foolish to wear black any day but she does it anyway. Besides writing, she spends/wastes her day by either reading weird books and comics; researching the history of certain topics because she is an historian and has the degree to prove it; drawing crappy art and comics strips; and/or watching an unhealthy amount of cartoons, anime, and YouTube videos. Her work has been published online--in the Art of Autism, the Lothlorien Poetry Journal, The Quiver Review, and The Ugly Writers--as well as in print with the 2018 Moorpark College Print Review and the Poets’ Choice "Realm of Emotions" anthology. She wishes the reader a nice day.


No comments:

Post a Comment

Three Poems by Steve Klepetar

Changing So many women turned into trees  or reeds or weeping stones. There was a man bent over a pond  who became a flower. Another died  b...