Cicada Symphony #1 - Joe Gallenstein - day 18

Cicadas emerge slowly in late Spring, Singing at first slowly, Almost sweetly and sporadically

And then the cicada’s voices crescendo, As their chirps grow as big and diverse as a symphony, They create a new and deafening cacophony

Though slowly as summer’s temperatures rise, The sounds of cicada’s voices dies, Fading by July into their soft Summer slumber

Seventeen more years until these cicada’s children, Will emerge to sing their early Summer songs, Again celebrating with a new chirping melody

Healthy At Home - Joe Gallenstein - day 17

Healthy at home is Not possible when your home Is someone’s income

It is not your home When your income won’t stop the Eviction notice

Healthy at home is Not possible when police Do not protect you

Is it still your home When officers can enter Without knocking first?

Healthy at home is Not possible when your street Now tastes like plastic

Is it still a home When you can’t repeatedly Stop breathing poison?

Healthy at home is Only possible when dreams And promises meet

Simpler Times - Joe Gallenstein - day 16

Don’t we all miss simpler times? Riding on your Papaw’s wagon With an RC™ and a Moon Pie®

Going out to eat with your parents Visiting Skyline® and getting a Pepsi™ To bring in the weekend

Sneaking into the snack drawer at Mamaw’s With all of your favorite Hostess® treats… Zebra Cakes™, Ho Ho’s®, and Oatmeal Crème Pies™ … or did those come from Little Debbie®?

The American Dream™ is bought and sold With nostalgia alongside a Coca-Cola®

Ode to Appalachian Women - Joe Gallenstein - day 15

Media is filled with Appalachian women But they hardly look like the ones I know Women who only know to submit themselves to men And not to fight for what they believe in

Rarely do we see anymore the stories Of the woman known as the Widow Combs Who stopped the company men from strippling her land And doing all she could to protect her home

We never hear about the petticoat mafia A group of women in a former mining town Who did all they could To turn their communities fortunes around

My Mamaw nor my Nanny resembled anything you’d see In pieces that fawn over JD’s ‘memoir’ Titled Hillbilly Elegy

Our experiences aren’t that different Summers spent in the foothills of Kentucky Where we’d go back home to subdivisions In the suburbs that surround Cincinnati

A future of possibility exists Because of the love that binds Because of the leadership that persists Of the women who live to fight

Fight for their dreams No matter how impossible it seems Fight for their family Even when it meant moving away

This is my ode to Appalachian women Whose strength we’ve too often diminished The Mamaws and Mamas Sisters and friends Who know how to dream And know to dream big

Nostalgia - Joe Gallenstein - day 14

Nostalgia creeps in Spreading across the walls of your mind Tinting the past in rose And covering up the cracks that were left behind

Imagine something simple From the everyday and mundane Time and memories fade most of the colors But somehow the shine will remain

Hungry meals turn into feasts Raises into big promotions Middle managers became company men Just outside of the C-level decisions

The struggling neighbors ended up ok Or you never heard from them again The power went out was an adventure Not because you were ‘less fortunate’

We remember people helped each other But forgot the judgement and the shame The pain that came from asking your friends or family Again and again

The past is always covered in a rose colored tint But the tin is always cheap And rusted If you look too closely at it.

Justice For Who - Joe Gallenstein - day 13

What do we want? Justice! When do we want it? Now! But not for Timothy Thomas Or Trayvon Martin

Not for Breonna, Or Mr. McAttee It’s too late for them We need justice for you and me

What do we want? Justice! When do we want it? Now! Justice for their families And the others they left behind

Derek Chauvin isn’t the only one on trial An entire way of thinking should be We paid him to be there as he bent his knee And caused the state to be responsible for another burial

What do we want? Justice! When do we want it? Now! Justice that brings peace Flowing like a river

White supremacists stand around gather Drowning out the voices of the hurting Yelling out White Lives Matter Vandalizing our streets under cover of the dark

What do we want? Justice! When do we want it? Now! It comes when we stand together To build a world that can be better

We stand together to build our power Witness and share our grief and anger To build a place where we grow justice That really includes all of us

Stan's Poem - Joe Gallenstein - day 12

Stan was a man Named for one side of the Golden Gate Bridge But his heart’s destination was on the other side Of the incoming tide

His last name may have been Francisco But he lived in Oakland Where he felt freer Where people felt more real

Business as a private-eye had been slow So he decided to try to sling some Joe Besides, being a barista is a great way To hear about goings on around the Bay

The cafe was often open late People at this time enjoyed their coffees different ways - Irish, Scottish, Tennessee, and Kentucky Evening crowds preferred this to lattes.

In walked trouble Looking at Sam in a way he hadn’t been looked at in years Oh, in all the coffee shops in all the word… She had to walk into here.

Sit in the Car - Joe Gallenstein - day 11

Sometimes you just need to sit in the car And cry No need to think about where you are Or to ask yourself ‘why’

We are living in a Panini Press Waiting to know if we’ve bee Steak-Umm Blessed We’ve been augmenting our lives online so long The wonders outside are long forgotten

Until it was taken from us In an unholy pandemic Exacerbated by hate and greed and fear Making it hard for others to come near

We don’t approach anyone we don’t trusts or know Asking ourselves if they believe reality? Do they know what surrounds us? And if we do, how do we make it show?

They sat it’s the end stage of the panorama I’m beyond ready for vacations and vaccinations But as a fourth surge emerges Maybe I’ll just sit in the car and cry

Basketball - Joe Gallenstein - day 10

A basketball laying in the grass Is the promise of what’s to come Summertime games in the park Hours of one on one

I remember waking up to the sounds Of kids dribbling on the sidewalk Playing pickup games in the street With the court outlined in chalk

21 Horse 3 on 3 All are some of my favorite memories

7 Haikus - Joe Gallenstein - day 8

To build a home here Or to return where they left A refugees choice

New American Settlers seeking refuge Turned away by greed

What are we today If we quit dreaming that America can

Can go to the moon Can fight the pandemics that We have created

Racism and the Dollar imperialism we have perfected

Gifts with strings that we Always have attached so that We look like good guys

Drug tests don’t screen for Trauma that we helped create Or make people safe

For Her - Joe Gallenstein - day 7

She said she never understood my poetry Because the words were too flowery It was hard to figure out what I was trying to say Though she felt poetry was meant to be that way

But isn’t poetry supposed to be real? It’s supposed to make you feel

Anger          Inspired   Sorrow               Hopeful Alone           Joy Thoughtless         Thoughtful

Talking around the issues won’t get me where I want to go I need to make clear what it is I want you to know

The world is filled with pain and agony And so am I But for her love my world moves on Filled also with radiance and beauty

The world may rage inside the storm But with her I find peace In the moments we spend together My life is given a new lease

Ferengi Sonnets Pt 1 and Pt 2 - Joe Gallenstein - day 6

Part 1

It is a truth that is universal That when a Ferengi looks for a wife He is looking for a spouse To not just care for his physical house But that expands his opportunities for Latinum Someone that helps his fortune reach its maximum

But misfortune comes to the Ferengi who ignores women For the future is on its way It won’t be long before Ferengi ladies will have their say A male heir to the fortune was once a businessman’s goal But what about if the son’s enterprise was hopeless? Any child could be talented, or even taught, in the ways of business Why would forward looking figures look away And the emerging power of women is here to stay

Part 2

Because courting you is a dangerous game For my heart is my most valuable possession And Rule Zero of The Rules of Acquisition state That If Grand Nagus tells us it must be so And Rule Two makes clear that Money is Everything So you must be money made flesh For to me you now are everything.

Rule One says Once You Have Their Money You Never Give it Back Your heart is the fortune That I have spent my life searching Rule Ten says Greed is Eternal And so we come to my proposal Will you do business with me for all our tomorrows?

Easter Evening Haiku - Joe Gallenstein - day 5

Tired from soccer But not soccer as we think But as a child sees

Power in the Basements - Joe Gallenstein - day 4

Power in the pulpit Power in the benches Power in the choir loft Power in the trenches

But the power of the parish that is strongest Is the power in the basement

Power of community Power of recovery Power of humanity Power in feeding the hungry

The power in the planning The power in the mission The power of conversation And the power of growing tighter

Power of the pulpit Power of the pews Power of the choir loft The power of me and you

Good Friday - Joe Gallenstein - day 2

And what’s so Good about Friday? Not much these days When we all have to work on Saturday

And Sunday is a holy-nother matter Find myself sitting around Just getting fatter

Can’t relax or even enjoy the day Because before we know it We’re back to Monday

We live not just in the mundane We live for the mundane Every day is a part of the grind

But what’s so Good about Friday? Now that TGIF seems to mean The Grind Includes Friday

April Showers - Joe Gallenstein - day 1

April showers of snow When I long for the blooming of marigolds (what even are marigolds - this city boy doesn’t know)

I wish I could look outside and know the names of every tree Of every bush, bug, or flower But even the names I know escape me

I can’t wait for the summer Where showers of rain and snow Give way to heat and sun And maybe a chance to finally have some fun