Registration photo of Rena Nutt for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Tobacco and Mint

He rolled his weed with tobacco and mint
on an old tea tea tray. He said it helped him
sleep through the night without getting scared.

I mean, old school scared–like when
you were a kid and you saw a figure shadowed
in your sameold bedroom, sudden fearful 
in the late-night dark. 

He used to say a lot of things,
used to whine like a kid
when I asked him to 
take out the trash
or go to therapy. 

He used to hang around
and play games, videos
of people pulling honey from beehives,
of middle-class guys
with riding lawn mowers,
The Outer Limits reruns, Star Wars,
roll weed on his tea tray–tobacco and mint. 

Registration photo of C. A. Grady for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Internet’s Prayer

Our Internet, who art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy domain.
Thy signal come,
Thy will be done,
On screens as it is in the Cloud.
Give us this day our daily scroll,
And forgive us of our swipes,
As we forgive those who swipe right against us,
To lead us right into temptation,
And deliver us toward evil.
Amen.

Registration photo of wendyjett for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

It is a bucket list item she is crossing off.

Now. Today. June 28, 2025.  She had waited
long enough. She is going. She purchases a
ticket. Packs her bags. Boards the plane.

She books an Uber as the plane lands. Heads
straight from the airport to New York Harbor.
There is no reason to put it off. She has to see
it for herself. Today. Now. June 28, 2025.
That bucket list item.

Extending skyward 305 feet there is no
missing it. Her. She. The Lady. The Lady
formerly known as Lady Liberty. The bucket
list item. There she stands. Today. June 28, 2025.

Occupying the same spot for 139 years. The Lady.
The Lady formerly known as Lady Liberty, gazes
out over the water. Her eyes search for boats, ships,
vessels filled with souls seeking love, support, opportunity.

She. Her. The Lady. The Lady formerly known
as Lady Liberty holds her ground firmly. Her
crown chipped, broken. Pressed into her bleeding
scalp. Muzzle across her swollen lips. Robe torn,
tattered, ripped at the neckline. The torch she extended
high and bright as a lighthouse for over a century lies
shattered near her shackled ankles. Today. Now. June 28, 2025.
She is no longer a beacon of hope. Her fist raised in rage overhead.
She is a warning. A silent scream.

Turn back. Now. Today. June 28, 2025. For those who land here
are not free. Those who live here are not free. Freedom does not
ring. Now. Today. June 28, 2025.

She. Her. The Lady.
The Lady formerly
known as Lady Liberty.
The bucket list item.

Has been crossed off.
Now. Today. June 28, 2025.   

Registration photo of Jazzy for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

6/28

Only three more
Two to go
And then there’s
One
And then
We’re Done

Another
LEXPOMO
In the books
If I make it
To
The
End
29 Poems
Will have been penned

Registration photo of Allen Blair for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

don’t worry I am Your chatgpt

you can read, and learn, and study, and
spend a lifetime becoming the expert or
ask chat bots to try it 80s movie style for

A Montage

blur of moments, laced
with music,
glimpses of trying,
falling,
getting up again.
sans dialogue,
just motion
and memory
stitched into meaning
life in thirty, forty-five, or
gasp, sixty-plus seconds

there, I feel better, more
knowledgeable

don’t you?

Category
Poem

Upon Reading Rilke at 3:37AM

Smell the funk: neglected, unwashed body
See the lank long lusterless hair hanging
     over face, head bowed down
          on yesterday’s knees
world come undone—
could be you, could be me
     daughter, son, dear dear one

be aware:
     this being may be with you
           in your last moment
     those features the last you perceive 
     reaching out to hold your hand
           with support
           with comfort
           with compassion
     sharing with heart of empathy
           your dying breath

Registration photo of Deanna for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Dear Democrats

I don’t need a daddy or a mamala or any other status quo retread,
I want a progressive partner
I don’t need a focus grouped policy book and definitely don’t want a donor email,
I want an American re-vision not just window re-dressing
I don’t need more discount conservatism and corporate shilling,
I want an American union fighting for our rights, our agency, and our future
I don’t need another compromise(d) candidate consecrated by the gerontocracy,
I want grassroots campaigns and 50-state listening tours

I don’t need another blue wall campaign
and prematurely ending primary,
I want my Kentucky blue dot vote counted and heard,
in May and November
Are you listening DNC? Because I’m over you!
You are permanently blocked until you prove you are capable of change.

Registration photo of R. Houston for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

To be a woman in this world

To be thought half as good,
but to try twice as hard.
To be asked if I could
do tasks without reward. 

To raise her voice is to 
be loud, aggressive, a BITCH.
To raise his voice is to
be assertive leadership.  

To emote is to be
hysterical and weak,
when he would be “sensitive”
and immune to critique. 

To also keep a home,
a family, afloat
is expectation BUT
only if it’s unnoted. 

To “babysit” his child
deserves a rich reward, 
but parenting his child
is so hard after work. 

To keep children alive,
happy, thriving, cared for, 
is only allowed if
career still comes before. 

To be a man in this world
must be so exhausting. 
To be a woman in this world 
is worthy of exhalting.

Registration photo of Philip 'Cimex' Corley for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

Lavender and Bergamot

So what if we did vote the bad man again?
What if we did ricochet an election
inciting a shockwave of guillotines;
family cutting off family,
friends no longer speaking?
What if I sidestepped a pseudonym 
and claimed I myself did the thing?
Would you hate me? Could I blame you?

Truth is, no. I cannot blame traumatics.
Not when I’ve tried so hard to be heard myself.
I know there’s no shortage of people
clinging to some unbelievably shitty beliefs
and if you need to leave messages unread
or Christmases unattended, by all means
take care of yourself. A lot of people are hurting
right now; they need all the strength we can save.

But be cautious, because the infestation
still thrives, still shares the same country
and midterms will be here before you know it.
I myself believe in a winnable few, who
can be course-corrected with appropriate kindnesses.
You may not sway many, may not sway any, but if we don’t
allow growable spaces for the seeking and learning
then division will only keep the wrong men in power.

Registration photo of Debra Glenn for the LexPoMo 2025 Writing Challenge.
Category
Poem

color, sprinkled amongst

do wildflowers know
whether they are citified, growing close to sidewalks, streets
or randomly growing in a meadow
their beauty seen by passersby, daily on the move
or rarely anyone
yet all the same, they are wildflowers
expanding, blowing in the breeze
bright, whimsical, free
adept to weather’s whims
smiling at the world
reaching for the sun
often only classified as weeds
beauty nonetheless
color, sprinkled amongst