I write like a puma
        (free after César Vallejo)
 
Gray ground like shade to yellow brights
of double structures of agricultural shapes
of hay and straw that may dot
the rural landscape
 
As it features this canvas
how golden yellow can shine
against darkness of green
with purple as an innocent judge
 
In between--only there to set up the scenery
to facilitate an objective decision
like a nocturnal judgement
one once said
 
As pointed out in
the violet flowery
that mysteriously covers
foreground of painting
 
Reflecting like lilies
in sheaves of grain
 
An enigma of abundance of nature
one may expect a promising harvest.
 
Xanadu (Ofvallejofame) for The Voices Project (June 2020)
(Thanks to Martin Malharro 1911 Las parvas (la pampa de hoy)
Museo de Bellas Artes Buenos Aires--please, find virtual painting
on Las parvas (la pampa de hoy))
 
 
Author Bio:
Xanadu lives in Iv, Space of Infinite Imagination, Public's Home 0.
It consists in publications, performances and exhibits in art, jazz and literary contexts.
气 is the Chinese sign qi (please, ask your local Traditional Chinese Medicine for its many senses).

(Coping in Quarantine/Safe at Home)                           

I can do this; I affirm with a smile.
I work from home, so few changes in style.
 
I already use Zoom to connect on-line.
Connecting with groups, too, will be just fine.
 
Three groups in week one, went really great.
Two weeks will go fast, a sprint at this rate.
 
Daily I record, Relax, we’ll get through.
I post activities and positives, too.
 
Working is wonderful along the way.
Helping others heal, makes my day.
 
These days I do this over the phone,
no hugs though as I stay here, home, alone.
 
New baby? I got pictures of the ‘Little Squish!’
Everyone’s healthy, the best birthday wish!
 
A friend’s son has cancer, I learn on the phone.
Just diagnosed and in his brain and bone.
 
“I’m so sorry,” I cry and manage to say.
The mom says, “I just hope with him I can stay.”
 
My heart sinks, knowing her final path with her son.
Unthinkable, cut off before its course run.
 
With the 2 weeks almost up, April filled in quick.
With thirty more days added, I feel tricked!
 
I did what was asked, following the rules.
Stayed inside and kept my cool.
 
I watched the Covid numbers stay in check,
no hospital overflow here; what the heck?
 
Two weeks I was willing to give for the cause,
Thirty more days gave me more pause.
 
My friend’s son died in just fifteen short days.
No gathering, just posts, we all stayed away.
 
I sent a condolence card and she sent a note.
“Now I’m really alone,” was what she wrote.
 
My husband’s friend died of a stroke overnight.
The shock sent him reeling, and no service in sight.
 
I know anger and sadness won’t help me get through.
I double up on walks and meditation, too.
 
I send more cards and letters; more Zoom groups start to form.
Talking with my sisters is now a Saturday norm!
 
A friend made paper dolls, complete with our faces,
missing our breakfast club, the dolls hold our places.
 
The silliness made me laugh when I saw them on Facebook,
we laughed more when Zoom squares gave us a Brady Bunch look. 
 
Tears and laughter move me forward, with a smile.
Confident we can do this, is much more my style.
 
Listening and talking, encouraging along the way,
connecting with more people, and ‘seeing’ they’re okay,
 
helps to make the difference while isolation occurs,
while days, weeks, then months, now become a blur.
 
So, I practice what I preach and focus on the now.
I breathe in and breathe out, and joy slips in somehow.
 
​
Author Bio:
Jane M. DeGeorge loves words almost as much as she loves people. She began writing as soon as she could hold a pencil. She has wonderful energy and enthusiasm, a soothing voice and left a management position in the non-profit world to pursue helping people at a greater depth as a psychic medium. Jane shares about life, love and the hereafter through her poems, short stories, a blog and is working on her first book. Jane earned her BA in Communication and her MS in Counseling. For fun, she’s known for changing words to songs to fit the occasion, creating themed game shows and has mc’d improv for an audience of 200 of her closest friends. Jane’s been married more than 30 years to the same man, who happens to be an introvert. Before they married, Jane’s mom warned him, he would have adventures!

Look beyond my mask into my eyes. Do you see me?
Look at what my eyes are saying …
     I am scared,
          I am lonely,
               I am hurting,
                   I am hungry,
                        I am homeless.
I am strong,
     I am hopeful,
          I am proud,
               I am blessed,
                    I am your neighbor.
I am reaching out to you.
    My invisible touch
          Seeks the connection
               That unites us as community.
Look deep into my eyes and you will see
     The message I have written on my heart:
Dear friends, I love you.
     Love me back.



Author Bio:
This poem was written as a response to viewing portraits of people on the streets of Winston-Salem wearing masks to protect them from COVID-19.

Judie Holcomb-Pack wrote her first poem when she was 10 years old. Although she doesn’t consider herself a poet as she prefers short story or nonfiction prose, she writes poems when she experiences feelings that must be expressed in poetry. She is the associate editor of a weekly newspaper for the African American community where she lives. She is a board member of Winston-Salem Writers.