Heirs of November: Poems-Prose-Protests

By KM Sharp

Heirs of November is about breaking the silence, standing up, and speaking out in a time when The People’s voices are deliberately not heard. This collection of confessional, lyric and free verse poems, prose and protests reveal one poet’s personal thoughts, experiences, encounters, and hopes while living in Saint Louis, Missouri and Los Angeles, California. Depicted are reflections of everyday life, stories of the times, informative and cautionary tales, and reminders to encourage the current and next generations to ask questions, stand up against corruption, challenge the status quo, and move towards worldwide equality, unity, sustainability, and peace. This book is about all of us and a call to action and change.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KM Sharp
• Release date: Nov 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370397952

KM Sharp

KM Sharp is a published poet, writer, MSW, activist, producer, and photographer originally from Saint Louis, Missouri. She moved to Los Angeles, California but now lives as a digital nomad traveling and exploring the world.KM received a BA in Communications from the University of Colorado and a Masters in Social Work from Saint Louis University. She worked as a social worker on the streets, in shelters, and at community support agencies counseling women, men, and children and those experiencing chronic displacement, mental and physical health issues, substance addiction, domestic violence, and transitioning out of prison until she became disabled in 2004 after a car accident.KM then studied under the renowned Welsh-American scholar, poet, and bard Jon Dressel. She is a member of St. Louis (Un)Stable Writers and Beyond Baroque in L.A. She co-produced and emceed a monthly literary and music show called Poems, Prose and Pints at Dressel’s Public House, co-produced and emceed Voices from the Underground and Truth Be Told Storytelling at Atomic Cowboy, St. Louis 100 Thousand Poets for Change events, and hosted the Poetry Foundation’s Poetry Out Loud at the Saint Louis Regional Arts Commission. She has performed in shows and events nationally and internationally.KM’s poetry and writings have appeared in Bad Shoe (JK Publishing, 2009), Feast Magazine (September 2010) VSA Arts of Missouri anthology Where We Can Read The Wind (VSA Missouri, 2011), No Vacancy (Aja LaStarr, 2013), Turning the Clocks Forward (VSA Missouri, 2013) I Become One (KM Sharp, 2015), in the anthology Crossing the Divide (Vagabond Press, 2016), OneGlobe Citizen (2016), Art Is a Living Thing (New Zealand Pacific Studios Exhibition at Aratoi-Wairarapa Museum, 2016-17), Heirs of November: Poems-Prose-Protests (KM Sharp, 2017), Uprooted (TBA, 2021), Liminal Woman (TBA, 2021) and a recipient of Access for Artists Fellowship (The Missouri Review, 2020).

Book preview

To Mother

Preface

These collections of poetry, prose and protests are a reflection of my personal thoughts, experiences and encounters while living in Saint Louis, Missouri and Los Angeles, California in America during 2002 to 2017. Depicted are stories of the times and everyday life: historical, societal, gender, racial, class, economic, political, war, environmental, health, work, housing, human rights, and hopes for a better future. These writings are to be informative cautionary tales, a reminder, a call to action, and to encourage the current and next generations to ask questions, stand up against corruption, challenge the status quo, and to promote kindness, compassion and forgiveness while finding new creative, innovative and collaborative ways to instill positive change towards worldwide equality, unity, sustainability and peace.

*Please note: I encourage these writings to be read in the order presented.

Acknowledgements

I would like to personally thank and express my appreciation and gratitude to the following individuals, groups and organizations for their inspiration, encouragement, support, generosity and kindness. Sweet Bobby for his unconditional love and amazingly beautiful book cover art, to my awesome mentor and dear friend The Dressel for sharing his wonderful gifts of writing poetry and for helping me find strength to speak up, my Family and Friends for loving and believing in me. To my fellow Poets and Writers for especially Castro, Janie and Phil for being shining exemplars paving the way, Amanda for her invaluable listening, cheering and copywriting, the (Un)Stable Writers and Everyone who personally contributed to this book—you know who you are—thank you for your heartfelt conversations, feedback and acceptance. To the St. Louis, Los Angeles and International literary, music, video and art communities for all of your awe-inspiring boundless creativity, talent and for being so welcoming and loving. To Dressel’s Public House, Atomic Cowboy and Saint Louis Regional Arts Commission for providing free venues for shows and events. To all of the hosts, participants and audience members from Poems, Prose and Pints, Voices from the Underground and 100 Thousand Poets for Change. To the Occupy Movement, Black Lives Matter, Standing Rock Water Protectors, Women’s Movement, STL and NFL Protesters, and All who continue to RESIST—I commend and honor your strength, courage and persistence. To all past, present and future Activists for advocating and promoting positive change, compassion, equality, sustainability and peace —thank you for your continued dedication and hard work. And last but not least, a special thank you to the Trees for providing the beautiful paper on which these and many other poems were originally composed. I grateful to you All for helping make this book possible!

Botox and Vodka

Botox and vodka

Nose jobs and chocolate

Tummy tucks, brow lifts, liposuction

Collagen, enemas and augmentations

These are a few of the things I may’ve done

When my boobs sag

When my brows droop

When I am feeling sad

I’ll simply call my plastic surgeon

And then I won’t feel so bad

Laser and Bailey’s

Facelifts and bon bons

Acid peels, butt implants, lip injections

Breast enhancements, nips, tucks stitched together with string

These are a few of those little things

I want to look like Oprah

No! Like the Dalai Lama

Just make me not look bad

Staple my forehead so I’ll look surprised

And I’ll never ever look sad

Revised

A Monday

reminisces of my son tossing about

with dreams and spit spilling out

five white stains of slobber on brown sheets

I crumple, wash and fold them neat

rushing to find all the papers due

gathering receipts and deductions too

driving with taxes but deliver to late

submit an extension to file at a later date

(truth—we didn’t have the monies to pay)

books in hand and a few writings as well

off to see my mentor to chat for a spell

afternoon moments with mother on the phone

if you ruin my sister’s love life, I’ll be pissed I moan

just an hour and a half or so to nap

my velvet black kitty asleep in my lap

running my fingers through jet black hair

a dip of water to calm a straggler

The Real Housewives of…

Mother and son sit in front of a therapist

talking about his drug addiction

The son an artist, perhaps

His ideals and perceptions are different from hers

His eyes tear up as he tells his mother

You always want things perfect!

Looking into her surgically augmented face of:

Day cream

Sunscreen

Foundation

Powder

Tanner

Blush

Sparkles

Faux lashes

3 shades of shadow

Eyeliner

Mascara

Eyebrow liner

Crimson red lipstick

Oh and a setting spritz to refresh the look

Things are not always perfect she says

But I don’t think I can be the person you want me to be he cries

The therapist chimes in Yes, Yes You Can!

The son with a blank look stares off as his mother hugs him

Flowers

Flowers stained on the ceiling

From unexpected rains

Hidden rivers find new tributaries

Flowing into trains

Drips into buckets

Upon my brain do fall

Wine

Gin

Vodka

Are the answers to my whimper call

Cringing

Brows furrowed

Teeth grind side to side

Flattened veneers

Enamel lost

For worry and demise

As the entire sky releases

All but eternal doom

Waiting for my lover

Another sip consumed

Each room has its buckets

As a dozen flowers bloom

Heirs of November

heirs are what keep this town