Tag: despair

so far from there

Jim KempsterLeave a comment

A well-crafted cradle awaited at home:
masterful hands turned each wood post with care,
expectant love sewn into bedding and quilt.
But the night he arrived, they were so far from there.

Summoned to journey to prove their allegiance 
amidst rumors of vengeful tyrant kings, 
they cleared dung from hay for a bed in a trough
and shelter from what the encroaching night brings.

Family back home would have gathered to welcome
with kettles and blankets of comfort to spare.
But here, only strangers followed cries in the fields 
to a drafty hay barn, oh, so far from there.

This winter my heart is heavy and broken
amidst news of a vengeful tyrant king,
can’t rise to the joy on my twinkling bower
or wish for a chorus of angels to sing.

If I’m wanting for hope or assurance tonight
that the world turns towards peace and all that is fair,
I remember the family huddled in the hay
and all that they’d hoped for, so far from there.

Continue reading “so far from there” →

something real

Jim KempsterLeave a comment
An imageless black square, often used to indicate the subject is somber or not for interpretation.

Airbrushed Ashley’s puffed lips 
ask to be my Meta-friend, daily.
Josh-bot phones me on the hour
about my Medicare A and B.
A.I.’s six-digit hands scramble history 
in Pixar-colored newsfeeds
where my friends used to be.
And, junk pollsters survey if I’m mad
enough to donate more and more.

This old historian 
and humanitarian 
vacillates 
between setting the record, 
comment-by-comment, 
or retreating 
to a good book and 
the dog on my knee.

But I know isolation,
like soulless contact, 
breeds despair, 
and Nero fiddles 
with tariffs
while America burns 
out.

So, I join the struggle,
to write 
something real,
wondering
if the algorithms
will expose 
or bury me.