6 GROUNDCOVER NEWS POETRY Where the Roses Remember Me I did not know I was becoming while I was becoming— Somewhere beneath the quiet of my early years, I was already a rose bush in the making, gathering color in the dark, learning the language of roots before I learned the language of people. They entered my life like weather crossing a garden. Some were morning visitors— soft light, brief warmth, a touch that opened one petal and then moved on. Others came as storms, uninvited but essential, their winds tearing away what I clung to so something truer could take its place. And then there were the ones who stayed— steady sun, patient rain, a presence that asked nothing but offered everything. They tended me without knowing it, believing in my bloom long before I dared to unfurl. Every soul, passing or permanent, left a trace upon my branches. Some carved resilience by leaving, their absence a pruning that shaped my strength. Some taught the necessity of thorns— boundaries grown from lessons I once mistook for pain. And some watered the quiet parts of me, coaxing color from places I thought would remain closed. Now, when I look at myself, I see a rose bush in full knowing— not untouched by storms, but transformed by them. My blooms carry the memory of every season, my thorns the wisdom of every wound, my branches the stories of those who crossed my garden. We do not become ourselves alone. We become through weather, through touch, through the grace of those who arrive and the necessary departure of those who do not stay. And when I finally stand still— really still— I see it: a life shaped into color, a spirit rising again and again toward its own light. I see that I have become the roses. And I am beautiful. MONIQUE CALDWELL Groundcover contributor MARQUETTA Q CLEMENTS Groundcover contributor How is this fair? Homeless, A Criminal A victim to Despair Am I guilty for the things I do to maintain? Being poor is to blame No humility nor shame I’d kill for a chance that my family can see The Dream MLK once had, called change I fear I won’t see that Day I fight so these kids, & kids' kids can change that fate All this hate that circulates I avoid the tides and waves Call me Moses of my people LORD BREAK EVERY CHAIN TODAY From the POET in the Quran To King James Let my tongue be a vessel To keys that’ll free all the Enslaved Let these metaphors send shots, B-bang Let it pierce the ears and RESONATE Truth bombs have IEDs Lies are like pressured weight Set it off like Jada Pinkett Honesty shall detonate Let it hit like metal shards Ripping thru the veins God is God, God is Great Remember His Grace thru pain He ain’t do it to you, he did it for you Mercy that his plan leads to fate His timing is never late I am his anointed detained This Earth shall shake. Deliverance from YAWEH APRIL 3, 2026 Please Keep My Name Out of Your Mouth LA SHAWN COURTWRIGHT Groundcover writer Please keep my name out of your mouth!! Especially when you have no idea, not a clue of what you are even talkin about. Please keep my name out of your mouth!! Most of what you are saying are twisted passed along lies. As a matter of fact You don't even spell my name correctly!! "That's right" Soo... Please keep my name out of your mouth!! If you checked my resume... Most likely, you will be amazed. Soo... Please keep my name out of your mouth!! Which is full of decay, defamatory things!! It's not cool to use my name that way. If you took more time to put yourself in check, then maybe you wouldn't be so busy trying to make my life a wreck. So check yourself once again, and, Please keep my name out of your mouth!! Refinement DAVID CRANE Groundcover contributor You don’t sharpen a blade without taking something from it. Each pass removes material. Each correction leaves less behind. People talk about growth like it is addition. It is not. It is subtraction. What remains must justify what was lost. Cold-Blooded DAVID CRANE That’s what they call it — The world confuses kindness for harmlessness. But love has never been harmless. To guard what is sacred requires teeth and restraint. Requires the quiet knowledge of what you’re capable of. Either stay dangerous enough to protect who you loveOr admit you don’t deserve the trust. Mercy is a luxury for those with nothing to defend.
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