Writing Through Hard Times

Each month, the Denver VOICE publishes a selection of writing from workshops sponsored by Lighthouse Writers Workshop. The Hard Times Writing Workshop is a collaboration between Denver Public Library and Lighthouse Writers Workshop. This workshop is open to all members of the public—especially those experiencing homelessness. Hard Times meets every Tuesday from 3-5 p.m. on the fourth floor of DPL’s Central branch. The Lighthouse sponsored workshop at The Gathering Place is specifically for that organization’s clients.

To check out more writing by the poets featured in this column, go to writedenver.org


Fran Ford

Condolences

Some say grieve briefly,

as if for a trivial, common thread

untimely caught, torn off the bolt.

To them, toss is same as mend.

My definition: loss is loss.

My life’s fabric I have woven

from the rarest threads I’ve found,

no two alike, some plain disparate,

but none entirely separate.

A whole cloth is one

where a thread cannot fray, a small tear appear,

without integral, enduring damage.

There’s no repair. The whole unravels 

as each comfortable, quick thread passes,

gone, its good fit, all its warmth,

through sharp shears. By such threads

all in which I wrap myself depends.

Finally, death will slip a heavy shroud on me,

but not before stripping me naked of others,

even if death is decent.

Selfishly, I hope your tough, bright thread,

glinting its length through my own gaudy duds,

warms me to my tattered last.

I’d feel the blades first,

not shiver as I go.


Freddy Bosco

Las Vegas (Revisited)

In the wake

of the recent Las Vegas Massacre,

we who are conscious

and conscientious and can still

feel love for our brothers and sisters

must declare our resolve

not to allow rage and depression

to swallow us.

Our “strange granite planet”

is already presenting us

with horrific natural challenges,

which is why we, as humans,

must support one another

in celebrating the gift of life

even when there are those

who would eradicate 

our species.


R. I. Pattermoore

On the Wings of an Eagle

Open spaces, open skies

The majestic bird takes wing

Into the purple haze of an evening sky

The eagle glides into the darkening sky,

Propelling to the future

Into Heavenly light

I want to be like an eagle

Fly into the beautiful night sky

Without a care in the world

Flying into heaven, into life

I want to fly on the wings of an eagle

Opening my horizons, freeing my mind

Digesting true value, true sight

I want to feel free, gliding on the wings of an eagle

Seeing the wonders, investigating the décor

Spying the beautiful Christmas trees in New Zealand

Looking in upon the frosted pub

Watching humans drinks a beer

Casually gliding can mean lightness and freedom

While at the same time can be slavery and fright

I want to fly on the wings of an eagle

And maybe have a little fun

Fly on the wings of an eagle

Living life to the fullest

Open spaces, open skies

In loving interest, coming soon

Eagle by day, majestic creature by night

Flying on the wings of an eagle

Triumphant at last

True call, perfect life

Eagle of peace and tranquility

Forever may the heart beat

Fly on the wings of an eagle

Triumphant at last


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