A weekend with friends
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| The Picnic by Thomas Cole (1846) |
We might be talking about a mini-vacation, a celebration, or a protest.
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| Protesters in Portland, Ore.Jordan Gale for the NYTimes |
Picture it. You are not alone. You are with like-minded people who are passionate and creative. You are plunging into a treasured destination or into non-violent persistence. You might picture a much needed vacation, or a much needed moment to voice your concerns. (Of course, you may be writing about a weekend with friends that doesn't include you.)
I invite you to focus on an event that was (or would be) a break from everyday routine. One with friends.
For Inspiration:
Make me laugh over coffee, make it a double, make it frothy so it seethes in our delight. Make my cup overflow with your small happiness. I want to hoot and snort and cackle and chuckle. Let your laughter fill me like a bell. Let me listen to your ringing and singing as Billie Holiday croons above our heads. Sorry, the blues are nowhere to be found. Not tonight. Not here. No makeup. No tears. Only contours. Only curves. Each sip takes back a pound, each dry-roasted swirl takes our soul. Can I have a refill, just one more? Let the bitterness sink to the bottom of our lives. Let us take this joy to go.
From Misery Islands (CavanKerry Press, 2014)
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We Are Remarkably Loud Not Masked By Juan Felipe Herrera
young Jesse Washington —
even though you on the wooden stick
cross of fire bitten charred cut & burned 5 minute jury
April 15, 1916 Waco, Texas shackled & dragged — lynched
You live on
Trayvon Martin face down
red juice on the lawn clutching candy rushing home
the hoodie the hoodie the prowler shooter said
upside down shredded night
because of you you
we march touch hands lean back leap forth
against the melancholy face of tanks & militia we move
walk become
we become somehow
Eric Garner we scribble your name sip your breath now
our breath cannot be choked off our
skin cannot be flamed totality
cannot be cut off
each wrist
each bone
cannot be chained to the abyss
gnashing levers & polished
killer sheets of steel
we are remarkably loud not masked
rough river colors that cannot be threaded back
hear us
Freddie Gray here with us
Jesse Washington Trayvon Martin
Michael Brown the Black Body holy
Eric Garner all breath Holy
we weep & sing
as we write
as we mobilize & march
under the jubilant solar face
Copyright Credit: Juan Felipe Herrera, "We Are Remarkably Loud Not Masked"
from Notes on the Assemblage. Copyright © 2015 by Juan Felipe Herrera.
More poems on friendship:
On Friendship by Kahlil Gibran
This Evening Let’s by Adrienne Rich
In the House with No Doors by Sarah Kay
(Please add more. I'm surprised at how few I know about friends being together.)
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