Listening and Being Heard

Listening to the rain beating our home like a drum, soaking my garden transplants, just like I planned. That kind of listening feels good. That kind when I have good timing and Nature does Her work while I write in my notebook, listening.

Being heard isn’t as easy. Opportunities to be heard are rare, and it’s even more rare to feel heard. Why be heard? What difference does it make? Do I need to be heard? Do I want to be heard? Can’t I just listen? Does anyone need to hear me? Does anyone care to hear me? Does anyone remember what they heard me feel?

Let’s be real. Listen & Be Heard podcast coming soon…

Kards1 painting the stage wall at Listen & Be Heard Poetry Cafe
Vallejo, CA. 2005? Photo by Martha Cinader

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Please participate. Say something about this and be heard.

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    i know i go i flow i see i free i me part of whole a soul
  • Shame Game
    he covers her cage with his rage, takes her song, tells her she’s wrong, weak, shouldn’t speak. she waits long for dawn.
  • Good morning
  • Children in the Caribbean and Tribes in New York
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    one little muscovy
  • he chose me
    fresh with still-wet hair spit on my pubescent idea of fair, a wad on my head to add to my dread that he might lash out about a girl as wrong as a protest song
  • Pretty Like Jamaica, a Story Especially for Caribbean Children
    We talked about how the role of provider has changed in Jamaica, gender violence, Jamaican National language and English in the schools, choosing to live in Jamaica, and her plans for at least ten more children's books...
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    what is tomorrow? does memory make me? can it break me? am i what was said? was i led to dread? what’s in my head?
  • Review: A Gathering of the Tribes–The Black Lives Matter Issue
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  • Warehouse
    A poem by Tony Robles
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