Poetry: If Not Now, Then When?

Healing and Understanding Through Wo

Photo by Timon Studler on Unsplash

I remember my campus feeling apocalyptic the morning after the 2016 election. Our campus, which had been such an accepting space, was suddenly full of people with black flags and white pointed hoods. It was horrifying for me, and I can’t imagine how terrifying it was for even more marginalized people.

I write poetry to cope. Be it an internal problem or an external issue, poetry lets me express and understand my feelings. It also allows others to see the world through my eyes, in perpetuity.

With a world that is crumbling around us, that means there is a lot of poetry. There is a lot of grief and an overflow of words. There is so little time for our legacy in the grand scheme of things. If we don’t create art now, when else will we?

11/9/2016

This campus was once colorful,
People walking by holding hands
With rainbow flags on their backs.
This morning is eerie.
The air feels stale
Rather than still.
No one speaks,
Eyes are hollow
And we are all disconnected.
They ride by on bikes
With black banners billowing
Behind them.
They march down the street
Wearing sheets,
Pointed in their hate.
No one feels safe.
In classes
We remained speechless,
Professors simply taking a seat,
Saying that this moment
Is more important than
Any history we’ve read before…