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Personal Note:

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Poem

That calendar on the kitchen wall marks 
another crisp January's windy morning,
it has brought in slowly-moving clouds, 
what has passed is part of evident oblivion...
unless one remembers what did unfold:
tragic days for most, nothing good to toast;
more hungry mouths that beg for food,
a terror-stricken street with deadly screams:
New Orleans was the target of an assassin!

Stay away from public places, celebrate at home
where the atmospheres is calm and kids smile;
the copycat punk who shoots has no reason to live,
and he's only fifteen: aren't his parents guilty
of the same crime, even without pulling the trigger?
Turn off the screen, avoid unnecessary stress!
The calendar on that kitchen wall marks everyone's fate,
a casualty is expected: today we're alive but tomorrow
we'll be dead; could we escape what is destined for us?  

If life has less thrills, blame who has a grudge
and placates his anger with murder to avenge 
an injustice or a repulsing conviction not shared
by all; guard yourself with a shield and bullets 
won't penetrate your targeted body, find new ways
of survival: does it mean you must be isolated?
 
The calendar on that kitchen wall has begun
its race through the coming months ahead leaving
us breathless: can we catch up to its relentless speed?
We must make immediate changes and adjust accordingly:
will we watch the exploding fireworks in the main square? 
Will a car crash into the crowd and cause spills of blood?

Copyright( C ) 2025 by Andrew Crisci

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