I've not lived in a big-city crime-infested scene like this, but for 11 years I lived in Salinas, which was deemed one of the worst little cities in the nation, as far as gang violence, with 30-ish deadly shootings per year, every year. That's where I lived before moving to the wilderness 10 years ago. I'd forgotten how bad it felt to hear gunshot & see helicopter searchlights most nights. You're right, you get numb. After awhile, forgetting to even debate whether or not to call the police. I love how your writing is done in a sketchy manner, as if the violence blasts every other detail out of our notice (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie
and it just doesn't end...random acts of violence all over the globe...no sense to any of it...when might we start finding some peace and love?
maybe those dreams are gone.
this poem just slaps us hard in the face with the truth...yes, "drugs pay the rent"
and some feel the only way to survive is through drugs and violence....but that only begets more.
powerful write, Betty.
Good work, Betty. I read several of your pieces to get the feel of your mindset and style. This piece captures the fading of the abhorrence of man's inhumanity to man. The cities suffer the cost of misguided politics. It seems the civil servants are enrapt in serving an uncivil master to do their job. But you have done yours well. You make the seamy screaming city come alive in the darkness. Thanks for grounding us with your heartfelt insights. Take a peek at my postings if you like.
I've not lived in a big-city crime-infested scene like this, but for 11 years I lived in Salinas, which was deemed one of the worst little cities in the nation, as far as gang violence, with 30-ish deadly shootings per year, every year. That's where I lived before moving to the wilderness 10 years ago. I'd forgotten how bad it felt to hear gunshot & see helicopter searchlights most nights. You're right, you get numb. After awhile, forgetting to even debate whether or not to call the police. I love how your writing is done in a sketchy manner, as if the violence blasts every other detail out of our notice (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie
My love of poetry results from my love of art. As a painter I am able to express myself on a canvas. As a poet my words come from my heart, my moods, sometimes sad, mostly upbeat. I like to use vivid .. more..