Friday, June 28, 2013


It's hard to know when it began
a sharp right where truth met
sharpened nails

The silver flashes of talking heads
their words bear
the sickening sweet smell
of corruption

A murder of crows
have gathered at our House
their dark maws ever devouring

Wake us from this complacency
shake us into a million pieces of light
the world is waiting

by Sherry Obsheatz

Thursday, April 4, 2013

The Art of Writing

Writing is messy.  Words slithering into sleep, jabbed hazily onto napkins ringed with wine stains.
                                                             Beauty out of chaos.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Her Name was Jyoti

Her name was Jyoti
and her life changed
in a moment, in moments
stitched together in violence

I want to take those moments
and scrub
set them to dry
in sunshine and love
bright and clean and full of promise

Her name was Jyoti
Her words, her story
salted with tears
fall from eyes that bear witness

Let her story fill oceans
Let her story fill our hearts
Let her story change the world

Her name was Jyoti
her name could have been you
her name could have been me

by sherry Obsheatz

In memory of Jyoti Singh Pandey

Saturday, October 8, 2011


play another life

home again

Eyes, speaking ties
Worked skulls-for skull

someone by gears

Feathers, find hide

Dawn aflame
out of sleep

Drifting suicide

Monday, September 26, 2011


We are born dying.
Would we cherish
this existence more
if we knew this from
the beginning?

Friday, September 23, 2011

Confronting Hamlet

The stars dip with a promise of a wish
and brave Ophelia slips into the dark
water, her bright hair spread around her
like vibrating strings, a soft sweet melody
passing away into the night.

I want to confront him, this Hamlet, who
flicked her away like an annoying fly.
Did you see in her eyes the wit and
humor that you lacked? I want to whisper
slyly in his ear the details of the morning
he will wake sticky with regret.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Building a Wall

I feel the first beads
of perspiration
sliding down my back

The room swirls
and makes a sucking
sound as if a balloon
is being deflated

Quick, fling open
a window, this fear
is hungry and I can't

It lies there crouching
waiting, I read once
that Churchill built
walls to keep it at bay

I lay the first brick
I will not let it
overtake me

a splat of mortar
and another brick
I will not let it
overtake me