About Me

My photo
Lake Arrowhead, California, United States
I live for my family, teaching, reading, and the joy of every new day, and I write to live! I've written both non-fiction, and adult and young adult fiction, and am currently working on a novel set in both California and London. This means I get to travel! Qualifications/Education: M.F.A., Creative Writing, 2009 Goddard College, Vermont. California Single Subject Teaching Credential Program, English, 1996 University of Redlands, Redlands, CA. B.A., English Literature, 1996 California State University, San Bernardino, CA.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Sandy Hook

Sandy Hook Elementary School

December 14, 2012

Connecticut, USA



December 14

In Lake Arrowhead, CA

In the West

A snow day for kids

And Christmas on the way



Across our land

Twenty little children and six adults

Lie dead



Shot this morning

At school



Internet comments

Bullets

Swift

Call for more guns

Less guns

Prayers



How does this happen

In America

In our neighborhood

In our school



In the world



It happens



Shocked, fearful, amazed

We wrap our arms

Around our own

Still living, breathing

Fragile babies



For tonight



And the families of the slain

Hold nothing



Instead of a false, consumable recommitment

More training, vigilance, attention, and protection



What about a long term

Local

Nationwide

Worldwide

Movement



The source is the screaming voice

Deep and demanding



The killer hears



No longer a child



Free to listen and react



To understand that mind

That possession



Defeats us



We turn our backs on mental illness

Blame the parents

Mother’s face blasted away

Video games

Internet

Edgar Allan Poe



Never

It’s not fair

It’s against the Constitution

There’s no clear evidence that the mind

The mind controlling

The arms

Hands

Those strong and angry fingers

Is a danger to himself or society



It would be heinous to institutionalize him

Or her

Without proof



And there’s no money for brain research, which might provide us with insight

Families are alone

With all the problems in the Middle East

And the cost of locking up the criminals we do have evidence against…



We need our highways!



Taxes!



And then what? There could be a return to

Snake pits

Of yore

Anyone could send an enemy away then

Locked away

Abused

Done



The mentally ill are so afraid

Their parents, spouses, and friends ashamed



Ask for help?

Better to live somewhere within society



Hidden from Not Everyone


Those nearby may work for years

Or just feel a doubting crawling dread

Gaining lightning visions

But little support



It’s verboten



The world loves a pink ribbon

Turns its back on gray matter

And hides the stigma


As the children die.



R. Lori Pohlman

California, USA

No comments:

Post a Comment

Your comments make the blog; thank you for taking the time to help make this space interactive!

Bodies of Smoke

From Bodies of Smoke

"The day was suddenly quieter, or maybe it just seemed to hush as Jan witnessed the spectacle of ashes falling all around him, slowly turmbling out of the sky, carried on the soft breeze from some unknown fire. He looked toward the forest, thinking of a wildfire, but the sky in that direction was serenely blue. The wind was blowing from the other direction, anyway. It was coming from town. Oswiecim. There was a railroad station there, and a camp.

Jan continued to stand, face upturned, wondering what was happening. What new calamity might this foretell? Maybe the whole world was going to light itself on fire. Maybe it already had.

Ashes continued to float down on his face, his head, his shoulders, cradling themselves in his outstretched hands. Finally, ashes covered all of the roses."


Bodies of Smoke

copyright protected, R L Johnstone-Pohlman, March 14, 2010

What Are You Reading? The Two-Minute Book Review Series

  • Wallace, David Foster. A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again.
  • Foer, Jonathan Safran. Everything is Illuminated and Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close.
  • Irving, John. A Widow for One Year
  • Didion, Joan. The Year of Magical Thinking.
  • Dunn, Mark. Ella Minnow Pea.
  • Donnelly, Jennifer. A Northern Light.
  • Kingsolver, Barbara. Prodigal Summer. This is one of my favorite novels; it's lush and filled with nature imagery, humorous and thought provoking. Entirely wonderful.
  • Knapp, Caroline. Drinking: A Love Story. For anyone wondering about the alcoholic experience, here's your book. Exceedingly readable and feels absolutely honest.
  • Salinger, J.D. The Catcher in the Rye
  • Gaiman, Neil. Neverwhere
  • Zusak, Markus. The Book Thief. As my writer friend says, "This is the book I wish I wrote." A book narrated by Death about a little girl living in Germany during WWII. This book will always live in my library!
  • Selznick, Brian. The Invention of Hugo Cabret. YA Graphic Novel. Some of my teen readers loved it, others found it too simple.
  • Colfer, Eoin Colfer. Airman. This book was voted favorite of the year with my middle school age book club.
  • du Maurier, Daphne. Rebecca
  • Card, Orson Scott. Ender's Game
  • Proulx, Annie. Brokeback Mountain
  • Spinelli, Jerry. Milkweed
  • King, Stephen. On Writing
  • Hamilton, Edith. Mythology
  • Lamott, Anne. Bird by Bird. My favorite book on writing!
  • Gilbert, Elizabeth. Committed.
  • Skibell, Joseph. A Blessing on the Moon. An amazing Holocaust tale..this book stays with me. I want to read it again for the first time!
  • Anderson, M.T. The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing
  • Harris, JoAnne. The Girl With No Shadow

Poetry Corner

"August in Waterton, Alberta" by Bill Holm


Above me, wind does its best

to blow leaves off

the aspen tree a month too soon.

No use wind. All you succeed

in doing is making music, the noise

of failure growing beautiful.



"Lincoln by Vachel Lindsey"


Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all,

That which is gendered in the wilderness

From lonely prairies and God's Tenderness.

Imperial soul, star of a weedy stream,

Born where the ghosts of buffaloes still dream,

Whose spirit hoof-beats storm above his grave,

Above that breast of earth and prairie-fire--

Fire that freed the slave.



Read!

Read!