Archives for poem

Documenting COVID-19:
Corona Crisis Franken-Poem

Below is a “Dr. Covid Franken-poem” assembled by White Plains Library's Poetry Slammaster Eric “Zork” Alan. Assembled from pieces of far more fantastic source poems in our monthly poetry prompt [Poets: Romina [Age 46], Nicholas Kalaj [Age 28], Nava D. Pollak [Age 11], and anonymous. Dr. Covid Franken-poem Like a Frankenstein future made properly present Piece by piece Our scars will be seen for our next generations of usersLike wondrous wheels Socially spaced we carry heavy weight Together It’s a beautiful bicycle We ride in a worrisome winter Down empty streets Across sidewalks we are separated But somehow social Dirty
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Categories: COVID-19, Featured, Homepage, and Library News.

Documenting COVID-19:
“The Dirty Glove”

“The Dirty Glove” is a poem submitted by Nicholas Kalaj, age 28. The Dirty Glove I do my job to keep these hand clean, I protect these hand from bacterias and germs that can’t be seen. I sacrifice my cleanliness for it is my job to do so, Into the green container is where the trash will go. Keeping these hands clean is my sole purpose, To clean this building is indeed a good service. Being busy is a blessing than a curse, Optimism is good because things could be far worse. Submit your own experience.
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Categories: COVID-19, Featured, Homepage, and Library News.

Documenting COVID-19:
A Bicycle on the Move

A poem, “a bicycle on the move,” submitted by Romina, age 46. A bicycle on the move A bicycle on the move Maintenance, did you say? Tires are getting low Too many holes in the road Bumps have affected my shape And I am carrying a heavy weight The breeze feels refreshing but cold Cold gets into my inner emptiness Emptiness. Is that how it feels? What’s wrong? Other bikes are riding along… I have no clear path or freedom There is fog menacing my wisdom Sounds of nature are suddenly close I feel the soft soil embracing my rubbery
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Categories: COVID-19, Featured, Homepage, and Library News.

Documenting COVID-19:
“A Pen” Poem

Poem submitted by Nava D. Pollak, age 11. A pen That never stops using words A unique fountain pen Who’s nib points flat down, Yet up To let ink out just right Fill it up in the color you want Make it yours Right now this pen feels alive So much extra time to write But this pen is so sad For in the wrong hands this pen Writes things learns things A poor pen shouldn’t have to know But this pen can be used by a child A child who finds the obvious topic EXTREMELY BORING In those hands
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Categories: COVID-19, Featured, Homepage, Homepage Kids, Kids, and Library News.

Documenting COVID-19:
Never A Miss Poem

“Never A Miss,” a poem submitted by Gina. “I lost my father to COVID-19. I began to write down what it felt like from the moment we had to leave him at the hospital to 16 days later when he lost his life.” Never A Miss You were never a miss They didn’t know Rushed inside while they waited for more rows Failing miserably on the account of all others Your dignity and pride now tossed aside Unable to speak as voices disappear Pleading for breath but life was so unclear You were never a miss Mind like no other
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Categories: COVID-19, Featured, and Homepage.