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by Johanna May

There are us.
The Michelin of human experience.
Rating each cruel delicacy,
Imbued by poetry,
we cannot escape the beauty
others are immune to.

The pain of it,
this fleeting, starburst of an existence,
the rightness of its wrongs,
in the bigger scheme of things,
historically, empirically,
the present arrives unapologetic,
each demographic lashes out
with dogmatic blindness.
Never seeing the infinite whole.

There are momentary respites from the ugly,
we are our own little saviours
when we wake up every now and then.
Our light in those times of enlightenment
lessens another’s darkness.

And within these swirling river like
passages of life we are too
submerged in,

we undip and marvel
at the beautiful hopelessness
of it all.


Posted on 03/16/2024
Copyright © 2024 Johanna May

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 03/19/24 at 02:49 PM

It is a beautiful mess, isn't it! Thanks for this, Johanna. "we are our own little saviours when we wake up every now and then." Great lines!

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/20/24 at 11:12 AM

Superb construction and message, Johanna, ambassador of poetry.

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