New TCBH poem by Gary Lindorff: Te Remaking of a Poet

Covid-19, you have done a number on me as a poet!
For that I am cautiously grateful.

I don’t think I can ever get back to
My old pre-Covid relationship to poetry
Even if I wanted to,
Which I’m not sure I do.

The pandemic hasn’t made me a better poet,
However that might be defined.
I’m starting from scratch.
I’m like someone who was laid off
From a twenty-year stint as a machine operator.

I used to turn out poems that meant read more

New poem by TCBH! resident poet Gary Lindorff: The Circle of what?

Circle up.
Hold hands.
Look around.

Look across.
Look at your feet.
Look at all the shoes.

Shoes with feet in them.
We make a good circle.
Circle of people.

Is life a circle?
Where is the circle of life?
Is there a bigger circle?

Why cant I see it?
Is the Koala in it?
Is the house spider in it?…

For the rest of this new poem by GARY LINDORFF, poet in residence at ThisCantBeHappening!, the uncompromised, collectively owned, six-time Project Censored Award-winning online alternative news read more

New TCBH! poem by Gary Lindorff: ‘Leaving Rome’ (written in Ireland)

Let every crack be a place for seeds to sprout,

Let the forest return to this place!
Let the rocks be done wearing our face,
And may every fractured avenue lead out!

Rome is crumbling.

All of the magic
That will save us is outside of Rome.

Inside the empire
Everything is falling.
It’s a magic-vacuum
That has sucked us in for so long
That we began to believe that every road
Ultimately led nowhere!

If you are still in read more

New TCBH! poem: ‘Patriarchy — how it ends’

The kings,
They come in caravans to die
And they bring with them their servants.
And their jewels stay with them
When they are buried

One hundred years apart
In the back yard.
And their graves
Fall down
And are removed

For paving stones
And the road that the kings arrived on
Is called Kings Highway.
Now cars race along that way
Right off the edge

And are buried and so on.
And doesn’t this sound familiar?
The lights turn green;
They let the cars go,
And then they turn red as blood

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