#Never Again


never again will there be an argument

about porn being more dangerous for social health

than the trade of death and its creeping demons

never again will it be okay to sell parenting tips on violence

in mass emails propagating it as a critical skill

normal will never again be numb and

sanity will never again be responded to with hysteria

never again should it be a question of either/or

vigils should never again be for children

never again should hiding from gunshots be a legitimate game

never again, should a ballet dancer have to practice

her agility taking cover under school desks

never again, should beach-loving friends

have to hold hands while holding their screams

never again, should a grandfather be surrounded

by the gloom of fear for his young grandson

the “as usual” life for a parkland resident

will never again include dreams without closets haunting them

scrabble will never again be a favorite family game ever

since the unfinished word was the young girl’s last

never again will there be that ever smiling coach

man enough to have pushed his students behind walls

letting the blood gush out of his own forehead

never again will her favorite chocolate nemesis

be on a dessert menu, each bite if ever will

coagulate the sweetness into heartrending sobs

melting down the throat of a grieving mother

tears will never again mean much more

than an obscene indication of helplessness

the blinding lights on police cars

and single files of teenagers

walking hands above heads

never again will they be innocent again

never again, will the wails of a mother

fall on silent ears and ambiguous words

17 families will never again think of

valentine’s day without bleeding hearts

the stone steps of parkland town

will never again, ever be able to wipe

the stains of the 17 young coffins that lay there

never again, will a hole in a heart

hurt as much as the hole in our collective humanity

never again will we rate and rank shootings

as worst or best ever; because

never again will the stink of rotten death

be enabled due to inaction and subservience

to everything that is insane

never again will we enable a collective abdication

of our responsibility towards our children

never again can despair keep us as awake

as the dread of sleeping through an emergency code alert

never again will we be forced to teach

our children to look out for “that kind of guy”






Published by Kashiana

I am a management professional by job classification and a work practitioner by personal preference. One poetry collection - Shelling Peanuts and Stringing Words and a chapbook, Crushed Anthills. Always gathering poems, and letting them marinate and change shape and form.

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