This week’s poet of the people is Lisa McVety-Johnson, a gentle soul, who I first met at an exhibition of her husband's artwork. It was a while before I became aware that she was finding her voice through poetry at the 2021 release of Fall Lines. Her work is kind, understated and revealing. I look forward to her continued blossoming and coming into her own as a poet.
Al Black
Lisa Johnson-McVety is a non-fiction writer whose work was previously only heard by college professors, or friends and family at funerals. Born to a southern patriarchal family, her work focuses on the transformative healing from traumatic events in her life and is dedicated to those before her who had no voice. In 2018, at the age of 49, during lunch breaks and evenings after work, Lisa graduated from the University of South Carolina with honors earning a Bachelor of Arts Degree in Creative Writing. Lisa was awarded her first publication in 2021 Fall Lines, where you may read her poem, Sad Feet. Lisa’s poem, It’s 4 a.m., was awarded publication in The South Carolina Bards Poetry Anthology 2023.
In my fall
The leaves crunch
beneath
my feet
and yet remain,
only changed
in form.
This season brings
a shedding,
a new stage,
and with it, new buds form
on the landscape
of my page.
I choose my response
to both the blooms
and the blight.
I’m a work in progress
an eternal dreamer
a student of this life.
Earth Angel
I was living with no clue
until I saw him for the first time
through new eyes,
the cataracts of my past removed.
Hardened tree limbs
for arms and legs
that engulf and protect
my wilting self.
I soar so very high
knowing not what the future brings.
He holds my cares, my cries
in the comfort of his wings.
I find relief in him
from the heat of the flames
for in his cool breeze
I live again.
I allow myself to float.
Expansive sky above
sun on my shoulders
safe in the sea of his love.
Shhhh
I am the devil
I am man himself
I am father
His words echo in my head
as his hand presses my face
deep into the bed
my jaws wrenched
out of place.
He always screamed “hush!”
He’s still trying to quiet me
He’s dead
The Box
The year 2028.
Abortion, firmly in our past.
No more bi-partisan hate.
New policy on the scene.
New government to intervene.
Email provides a link
to our portal.
Your fate sealed
as your date of birth will reveal.
If male, press the circle.
Minimally invasive,
it touts to be of great appeal.
A quick nip and tuck
no need for drugs.
Just a slice at birth, and home to heal.
And so, ends
the divisiveness
of this quarrel.
History books speak of
our barbaric acts,
how our young society suffered.
Don’t worry about these cracks.
For under our reign, we shall recover.
No more unwanted births.
The burden no longer on her.
Absolution founded by a mother.
Apply inside once notified
we deem you worthy to give life to another.
Thank god for a woman
I think God is a woman
Don’t worry. Whether you like it or not, we’ll protect you.