The poems posted here have been curated specifically for the website and don’t appear in the poetry anthology. If you’d like to submit a poem about gun violence in America for consideration on this site, please see our submission guidelines in the “Other Voices” drop menu.
By Nicole Cook Bang bang I’m angry Or I’m sick Or I’m frustrated Or I’m bullied So sad Bang bang What to do? Can’t get care They’ll know I’m sick Americans are strong Americans are never weak Bang bang In the street In my bedroom At the corner store In our temples Bang bang … More BANG BANG
By Lily Connolly I see the students of my generation frazzled by fears of being shot in classrooms, +++++++++marching through urban streets during third period, writing funeral scripts+++++++++at lunchtime, Life-centered minors laying their friends to rest between political rallies and soccer practice, Feverish futurists trying to rewrite ancient scripture to prevent radioactive equipment +++++++++from taking … More ROAR
By Mary McCoy An overwhelming sound rings… It’s the static on the PA. Expecting some sort of dismissal for some student, I stop listening. But the PA sounds once more. “We are under lockdown, This is not a drill.” “Ya sure!” I joke to my friends. We lock the door, turn off the lights, and … More Sound Rings
By Phyllis Meshulam A morning dawns, barely, with fringes of rain along the well-worn path to the daily paper. She is regulated by her body’s clock, still on Eastern time, as Melissa listens to the drops dribble and splat. Being home from her trip, it’s necessary to re-enter the daily routine, to plan her lessons, … More Infringed
By Ann Gustavson At least it wasn’t in a school, I think as I stand up and Walk to the window in my classroom. But how is this an okay thought? At least. How many more “at least” thoughts will I have to have? I look out at the blue Connecticut sky Trying to settle … More The Day After Thousand Oaks
By Charles Rafferty 1. Children Could Become Maniacs (Columbine) That’s what I learned from the radio as my daughter drank her bottle. 2. Question (Sandy Hook) What kind of gun laws would we have if 26 senators died crouching in their offices while the sunlight was dazzling the pens upon their desks? 3. Why You Died on a … More Triptych
By John Roche I am an armed teacher. Armed with knowledge. Armed with experience. Armed with expertise. Armed with compassion. Armed with passion. Armed with innovation. Armed with creativity. Armed with professionalism. Armed with curiosity. Armed with collaborative spirit. Armed with encouragement. Armed with responsiveness. Armed with resourcefulness. Armed with academic rigor. Armed with leadership. … More I am an armed teacher.
By Albert Lee we are angry … More Our Park Our Land
By Leah Brennan I hold it in my hand like a baseball— the glass apple paperweight inscribed with my name. I am trained to scan for objects, to weaponize the room, to lock the door from the outside, dismantle the workspace, reassign it to the front line, a hedge of student-chairs, impossibly small desks attached … More Paperweight
By Hakim Bellamy Son, if you came up missing your hood would not be able to find you. Unable to pick you out in a crowd, or a police lineup. If you made it that far. If they even came looking at all. Don’t be anonymous, child. Make sure you stick out like a … More Don’t Be Anonymous, Son
