June Community Gathering - "Creative Process" #5: Susan Lipson

Welcome back to “Creative Process" our month-long community gathering featuring written work from members of the Lady Brain Collective.  Today we'll highlight a several original poems and a song from member Susan Lipson.

image description:
colorful writing pens overlaid on photo of Susan Lipson reciting poetry from her book Disillusions of Grandeur.
original photo credit: Darci Fontenot

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“The Misalignment of Cogs" by Susan Lipson (4/28/2020)​

While some human cogs resist the forces of cooperative movement,
complaining about
restlessness,
anxiety, 
dwindling funds,
unemployment,
having to adapt to remote work,
boredom, 
lack of variety in their refrigerators, 
lack of products at grocery stores,
delayed and limited deliveries,
cabin fever,
overgrown hair and nails,
bare skin longing for tattoos,
inadequate subsidies,
discomfort of masks,
exhaustion from preventive measures,
lack of antivirus protective gear,
internet slowness,
missing travel and concerts and plays and restaurants and parties and 3-D interactions and visible smiles from strangers and hugs;
and even complaining about their work being deemed “nonessential,”

Others grit their teeth and bear
isolation,
due to their “essential,” risky-to-others, daily public service;
quarantine, 
due to exposure to COVID-19;
fear, 
due to sudden separation from a sick loved one;
helplessness, 
due to hospital rules against visitors;
terror, 
due to sirens blaring, people coughing through thin apartment walls, sudden fevers, or lack of taste and smell;
pain, 
due to the virus or their empathy for the pained ones in their care;
exhaustion, 
due to inadequate oxygen intake;
drowning, 
due to dysfunctional airways; or
death, 
due to an unchecked virus--
which might have never reached them 
if more people recognized their role as human cogs in a social structure
bigger than any one of us.

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image text:
Racism is not a congenital
defect, but an acquired virus,
caused by miseducation,
spread by willful ignorance,
and exacerbated by hatred.
Children aren't born racists.
​@susanllipson

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“Springtime Coronation" by Susan Lipson (2020)
(listen to a capella recording on Soundcloud)

We’re spending springtime in isolation 
throughout our nation;
And we are One with the whole world.
Thank no messiah for this illusion;
Fear and confusion 
that both unites and divides us now.

(Chorus)
Ironic that a microscopic crown
Can bring a planet down,
Dropping to our knees.
Ironic that respect does not unite
as well as this great fright
born of a disease.

Folks hoarding products and foods for living,
Taking not giving,
Will feel the loneliness set in.
Meanwhile Italians see
from many balconies
their neighbors singing
and they step out to sing along.

(Chorus)
Ironic that a microscopic crown
Can bring a planet down,
Dropping to our knees.
Ironic that respect does not unite
as well as this great fright
born of a disease.

Bridge:
Behind each tragedy
Is a lesson in disguise--
Though that changes no demise--
I really hope we’ll see
That we owe it to each other 
To separate now 
for the sake of health and unity. 

We’re feeling humbled now 
As we all face the crown 
That made us subjects,
Of its harsh, random decrees.
We’re cells and nothing more,
No one knows what’s in store;
We must be One before
We can defeat this awful coup.

(Chorus)
Ironic that a microscopic crown
Can bring a planet down,
Dropping to our knees.
Ironic that respect does not unite
as well as this great fright
born of a disease.

I hear the silent prayers
Of worldwide neighbors 
Seeking great saviors
To bring us health and peace again.
As we all wait in vain
The skies are pouring rain,
As if in sympathy 
They clean our windows to the world.

(Chorus)
Ironic that a microscopic crown
Can bring a planet down,
Dropping to our knees.
Ironic that respect does not unite
as well as this great fright
born of a disease.

---

image text:
​@susanllipson
Indelibility

Antiracist words that lead
to no actions or changes
are like skywriting by planes:
they seem grand until they fade
into misty trails of nothing.


Let us amplify our calls for justice
by tattooing their many hashtags
behind our eyelids,
metaphorically,
so we will see them
any time we close our eyes.