Category: Free Verse Poetry

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Astronaut Fears

Astronaut Fears By: Raveena Duggal As astronauts climb into rockets, Nervous feelings devour their mind, They start to check the controls, The rocket is getting ready to blast off, 10, 9, 8, 7, Staff are on their computers, 6, 5, 4, 3, They are making sure everything is fine, 2, 1, Astronauts are holding on,

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Fright

FRIGHT The swirls at the foot of the bed have returned. I dread the blanket of sleep. Male, always male, they invade my room masquerading as shadow puppets on the front wall with the incoming streetlight. Rabbit-eared and whispering they congregate in secret burrows. Who to trust. Who to believe. A Roman Catholic priest, a

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Fall: to Become the Silence

Fall: to Become the Silence (in the passing of Ruth Bader Ginsburg) November has threatened to enter the room. We fear exposure with our necks. Boardrooms do not grow pretty words; flat, polished business shoes suffocate us right at the stem. Leaves tremble: mouthing, wordless, they curl into coloured deaths. Outside, the wind has picked

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Fear of Drowning

Fear of Drowning our relationship has never been fluid I remember the first time, I screamed to the point of embarrassment and others screamed back in static echoes over time. Now when you touch me, nausea coats me with blue fear while panic attacks begin their drum roll. It’s the depth I can’t quite comprehend,

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Thoughts of Fear

Fear could be a monster under your bed A scary movie Stuck in your head Fear could be trying something new The one opportunity That’s only up to you Fear could be no money in the account Bills to pay, mouths to feed But no dollar amount Fear could be not wanting to be alone

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School and Season Changes

School and Season Changes By: Raveena Duggal Walking into school, You feel a warm breeze, Everyone is wearing masks, Scared and yet excited. Students are back in routine, Their knowledge grows, Hand sanitizer is everywhere, The warm air turns cold, Snowflakes are falling, Students have lots of fun, Snow brings laughter, But soon flowers will

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Essential Work

Essential Work What work is mine? Offering my full cornucopia, cut from leg of sacrificial lamb? Allowing my rounded fruit to be cupped squeezed, peeled bruising concealed? Resurrecting the ole iron lung, its dependable clatter, the work of being essential noise for those needing reminders of the sweetness of breathing on our own without effort.

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From Pyre to Ash: A Teacher’s Duty

From Pyre to Ash: A Teacher’s Duty I’m sorry but I can’t write a poem about going back to school. My pandemic mind is a closet with twenty years of chaos. Unkempt as it is, everything will fall. My job is to hoard piles of artifacts – the art of facts: the tests, markers and

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Eye Openings

Perceived through hazel eyes. Felt with every beat of your bleeding heart. Lessons taught with every bloom to closing chapter, turning petals in between. Checkpoints of soul’s journey. Insight mirroring truths for evolving essence. A flock of birds feathered with love, change, growth, gratitude. A travel holding you hostage, no direction or destination until you

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Shattered

shattered no one looks at her as she walks to school uniformed, books clutched to her chest passing cars, pedestrians see past her through her she is unremarkable she is scenery. each step to her destination an effort not to turn and run sheer force of will her only glue to hold together her plain

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