Take 5ive : Theme March 2024 Inclusivity
Inclusivity is the practice of embracing and valuing diversity. It involves creating an environment where everyone feels welcome, respected, and valued, regardless of their background, identity, or characteristics. Inclusive spaces recognize and celebrate individual differences, such as gender, race, class, sexuality, and disability. Rather than excluding anyone, inclusivity encourages active participation and contributions from all. It’s about fostering a sense of belonging, promoting equal rights, and ensuring that everyone can express their unique perspectives and talents.
Tuyet Van Do
end of year party
management encourages
children
to sit
with their respective adults
meeting
at new work place
rainbow posters
display
on the wall
team building
coworkers come to work
celebrating
multiculturalism
with food and colorful costumes
Ram Chandran
buddha garden
a cherry blossom
for each one
an American, Asian, African...
and for a stateless too
flowing
miles and miles...
this river
still has a bit of the mountain
in the waters
midnight
the moon is sailing through
the pool of stars...
a flash from the lighthouse
welcomes the refugee boat
night rain
in the newly dug grave
blades of grasses
welcoming
the lowering casket
David He Zhuanglang
drops of sweat
falling
from his beard
a monk
meditates...
a young man
hands the faded rose
to his girlfriend...
she hugs him
with a gentle smile
Christina Chin
single handed
from morning till night
extended family
under one roof
mother's chores
generation gap
aunt and nieces
the early bond
granddad
lays
Ford Consul
backseat kids
grandpa enrolls
them in ballet
classes
Nitu Yumnam
a dim star
unnoticed in the bright
sky…
another child…marginalized
in the shadows
bullied child . . .
clipped
before the sky
the feathers
of a sparrow fledgling
bitter winds
from all sides
"life’s so cruel…"
staring at the scanty plate
the face of a refugee
Xenia Tran
seaweed
on rippled sand
a beach ball
still holds the space within
its funky colours
meditating
on soft grass
a white feather
tickles my arm
to fall awake again
so empty
since the trees left ...
I'd love to return one day
and see the fruits
of our rewilding
Randy Brooks
MOTHER embroidered
on a handkerchief
the Cherokee
great-grandmother
I never knew
never lived
in one place
long enough
to call it home
hermit crab
pregnant
naturally the first
to see all
the pregnancies
at the zoo
Sarah Das Gupta
Bent over the desks
black, brown, blonde heads
chat, confer, suggest,
the story is developing
dragons, spaceships and heroes
My grandfather sits by the fire
telling stories of derring-do
in the burning North African desert.
We listen enthralled,
in the shadows, ghosts of old comrades
In Sikh Gudwaras,
rough sleepers and the poor,
the flotsam and jetsam
of the city streets
are served food respectfully
Jerome Berglund
a man
of substance...
identifying
medication is not
a diagnosis
patrolling blood cell
if it doesn't
speak to you
perhaps speaking
about you
I love you
and see you
you’re enough
but you’re not invited
to our party
Diane Funston
nurses ask questions
they want me to answer
“ask him”
I say, referring to my client
Down syndrome isn’t deafness
choosing for softball teams
in teenage gym classes
I ran slowly
but I could hit that ball
kept me from last chosen
cookie dough rolled out
each child takes a turn
pressing
handprints to be baked
even the girl missing fingers
Jackie Chou
sitting alone
at the Chinese students dance
my cheongsam
didn't earn me entrance
into their exclusive club
a paper doll
cut off from the chain
I wake each day
with nowhere to go
and no friends to see
a few blossoms
peeking through
the tree trunk
later the wild blooming
of the unincluded
Marilyn Humbert
the smiles
as they sign Auslan
setting aside
playground politics
talking to the deaf girl
lunchtime…
the refugee girl
swaps
lentil curry and rice
for a vegemite sandwich
marching
down main street
waving banners
we all live under
the same sun
Mark Gilbert
off the leash
three dogs
paddling in the tide
two women
sharing their lives
two voices
close but not the same
differences accentuated
imperfections joined
in human harmony
at the poetry
recital
both frogs
and toads
are welcome
celebrating
diversity
a leaflet left
on every flat
surface
Bryan Rickert
learning how
to get along
not one
bird turned away
from our feeder
the old lady
at the back of church
loving it
when everybody
calls her grandma
no matter
who you are
the waitress
at the corner diner
calling you sweetie
the first day
of kindergarten
everyone welcome
to sit in the circle
and share
not knowing
race, color, or creed
this earth
we are spoiling
for our children
Kathabela Wilson
international guests
at our family table
mom’s mixing bowl
she liked to stir
the world together
one of our poets
shares poems in braille
blind from birth
her enlightening program
on visual memory
poets on site
a fanfare of flutes
on a world tour
all our languages
simultaneously spoken
Rupa Anand
a frail feral
joins me in the sun
for a snack
his steady purr colours
the lengthening day
through open windows
funny-faced pansies
bring cheer
somewhere in the world
a newborn baby’s first cry
the cow
nuzzles her calf
while it suckles
checking the menu
i order neither cow nor calf
Biswajit Mishra
watching
three runaways having fun,
their language,
unknown but our laugher
times well with subtitles
I see waxwings
swarming in winter
as if to fill
for the geese sojourning south
so magpies don’t feel alone
summer afternoon
lilac scent wafts in
from trees
behind the fences I walk by,
I close my eyes to say thanks
Jon Hare
running
with the wind
thinking
about people
running the other way
pieces of porcelain
saved from discard
joined together
with gold lacquer
translated vases
Roberta Beach Jacobson
new place
with an unknown language
now home
neighbors greet her by name
and invite her over to play
teacher
learns preferred pronouns
of the kids
in her class, her school
respecting one and all
Terri Watrous Berry
INVITATION
Come to the party
pretend and we can lend you
back your family
blood much thicker than water
we can then use in the stew
Chen-ou Liu
my chanting voice
wavers between hope
and acceptance
swirls of incense hover
over the Buddha
my Jewish friend
turns off the TV and asks
in barely a whisper
can one's fragmented heart
contain two pains at once?
a caged monkey
runs up and down
back and forth
as if it could flee ...
in its eyes I see my fate
Peter Larsen
the sisters
at gamma alpha mu
like their new pledge
she dresses well
and isn’t too pretty
I changed the B
on my English exam
to a D
for showing the big boys
at the school bus stop
antisemites
and white nationalists
don’t harass me
because I look like them
and keep my mouth shut
nobleman,
Jacobin, bourgeois,
or queen--
they’re all just heads to
Madame Guillotine
Ron Scully
reunion
at the reading of the will
with coffee and powdered donuts
each of us learned
finally where we stood
it took her hours
to get me down on my knees
hands in the dirt
it was as good for her
as the growth of the marigolds
Tyson West
richmond summer sweat
we ate the same burgers
smoked the same fags
whites smiling in black face
blacks grinning in white
boys from a murder
of skins and tribes salute
their chosen flag
esprit at ease―all wounded
and corpses will march home
red tribe blue tribe
boundary crossed for pot, guns,
and abortion
all ponder the conundrum
drag queen bible study
Susan Rogers
New Year’s service
the rabbi invites a Muslim
to chant for peace
I bow my head
and smile
I tell my nephew
formerly my niece
I love him
and miss him
summer silence
remember Solomon’s solution
Israel and Gaza--
a true mother
would not sacrifice her child
you share one baby
(Solomon threatened to cut a baby in half to share with two would be mothers)
Lorraine A Padden
lichen
on the headstone
the last name
in a bloodline
rehomed
rushing over
with my last
two oreos…
just before the bell
ends recess
garden wedding
holding hands
amidst the roses
and a few
thorns
Anthony Lusardi
with his mom
a boy with down syndrome
grocery shopping
giving the cashier
food stamps
for next summer
the inlander
with no legs
buying handles
for his surfboard
tomato cans
hand-painted
by special-needs kids
protecting
tulip sprouts
Debbie Strange
wildfires
rage across the tundra . . .
my conscience
chooses to rescue both
predator and prey
three sisters
in hand-me-downs
cling together
at their new school . . .
together, yet apart
we adopt
the deaf Dalmatian pup
no one wanted,
so perfectly imperfect
and worthy of love
Richard L. Matta
bay party cruise
the new single looking
at the bait barge
one seagull mingles
in a cormorant roost
lightning strike
a plasma ball forms
beside me
the way she said
marry or miss me
it vanished
into the purple sky
just echoes remain
reminding me to honor
a blue heron’s space
Genevieve S Alguinaldo
flowers
of different colors
swaying
at the song
of a common blackbird
no two pebbles
are alike
in the fresh stream
but each one
shielded from the sun's heat
under the rubbles
their words
may be different
but their eyes speak
of the same desire to live
C.X. Turner
a forest
of withered trees
in later life
I reject the myth
of them and us
muddy forest
alive
with birdsong
I recall how it feels
to be included
fingernails first
digging in the dark
of my past . . .
the patch where the grass dies
growing up strong
planting
in a garden of rubble
I join a network
of like-minded
individuals
Steve Wilkinson
the sound
of thousands of voices
I don’t know
the language
but I feel their pain
hidden
in plain sight
years of hiding
who he is
afraid to come out
race, religion and gender
instead of division
try to follow the peace
outlined
in your holy books
end of year party
management encourages
children
to sit
with their respective adults
meeting
at new work place
rainbow posters
display
on the wall
team building
coworkers come to work
celebrating
multiculturalism
with food and colorful costumes
Ram Chandran
buddha garden
a cherry blossom
for each one
an American, Asian, African...
and for a stateless too
flowing
miles and miles...
this river
still has a bit of the mountain
in the waters
midnight
the moon is sailing through
the pool of stars...
a flash from the lighthouse
welcomes the refugee boat
night rain
in the newly dug grave
blades of grasses
welcoming
the lowering casket
David He Zhuanglang
drops of sweat
falling
from his beard
a monk
meditates...
a young man
hands the faded rose
to his girlfriend...
she hugs him
with a gentle smile
Christina Chin
single handed
from morning till night
extended family
under one roof
mother's chores
generation gap
aunt and nieces
the early bond
granddad
lays
Ford Consul
backseat kids
grandpa enrolls
them in ballet
classes
Nitu Yumnam
a dim star
unnoticed in the bright
sky…
another child…marginalized
in the shadows
bullied child . . .
clipped
before the sky
the feathers
of a sparrow fledgling
bitter winds
from all sides
"life’s so cruel…"
staring at the scanty plate
the face of a refugee
Xenia Tran
seaweed
on rippled sand
a beach ball
still holds the space within
its funky colours
meditating
on soft grass
a white feather
tickles my arm
to fall awake again
so empty
since the trees left ...
I'd love to return one day
and see the fruits
of our rewilding
Randy Brooks
MOTHER embroidered
on a handkerchief
the Cherokee
great-grandmother
I never knew
never lived
in one place
long enough
to call it home
hermit crab
pregnant
naturally the first
to see all
the pregnancies
at the zoo
Sarah Das Gupta
Bent over the desks
black, brown, blonde heads
chat, confer, suggest,
the story is developing
dragons, spaceships and heroes
My grandfather sits by the fire
telling stories of derring-do
in the burning North African desert.
We listen enthralled,
in the shadows, ghosts of old comrades
In Sikh Gudwaras,
rough sleepers and the poor,
the flotsam and jetsam
of the city streets
are served food respectfully
Jerome Berglund
a man
of substance...
identifying
medication is not
a diagnosis
patrolling blood cell
if it doesn't
speak to you
perhaps speaking
about you
I love you
and see you
you’re enough
but you’re not invited
to our party
Diane Funston
nurses ask questions
they want me to answer
“ask him”
I say, referring to my client
Down syndrome isn’t deafness
choosing for softball teams
in teenage gym classes
I ran slowly
but I could hit that ball
kept me from last chosen
cookie dough rolled out
each child takes a turn
pressing
handprints to be baked
even the girl missing fingers
Jackie Chou
sitting alone
at the Chinese students dance
my cheongsam
didn't earn me entrance
into their exclusive club
a paper doll
cut off from the chain
I wake each day
with nowhere to go
and no friends to see
a few blossoms
peeking through
the tree trunk
later the wild blooming
of the unincluded
Marilyn Humbert
the smiles
as they sign Auslan
setting aside
playground politics
talking to the deaf girl
lunchtime…
the refugee girl
swaps
lentil curry and rice
for a vegemite sandwich
marching
down main street
waving banners
we all live under
the same sun
Mark Gilbert
off the leash
three dogs
paddling in the tide
two women
sharing their lives
two voices
close but not the same
differences accentuated
imperfections joined
in human harmony
at the poetry
recital
both frogs
and toads
are welcome
celebrating
diversity
a leaflet left
on every flat
surface
Bryan Rickert
learning how
to get along
not one
bird turned away
from our feeder
the old lady
at the back of church
loving it
when everybody
calls her grandma
no matter
who you are
the waitress
at the corner diner
calling you sweetie
the first day
of kindergarten
everyone welcome
to sit in the circle
and share
not knowing
race, color, or creed
this earth
we are spoiling
for our children
Kathabela Wilson
international guests
at our family table
mom’s mixing bowl
she liked to stir
the world together
one of our poets
shares poems in braille
blind from birth
her enlightening program
on visual memory
poets on site
a fanfare of flutes
on a world tour
all our languages
simultaneously spoken
Rupa Anand
a frail feral
joins me in the sun
for a snack
his steady purr colours
the lengthening day
through open windows
funny-faced pansies
bring cheer
somewhere in the world
a newborn baby’s first cry
the cow
nuzzles her calf
while it suckles
checking the menu
i order neither cow nor calf
Biswajit Mishra
watching
three runaways having fun,
their language,
unknown but our laugher
times well with subtitles
I see waxwings
swarming in winter
as if to fill
for the geese sojourning south
so magpies don’t feel alone
summer afternoon
lilac scent wafts in
from trees
behind the fences I walk by,
I close my eyes to say thanks
Jon Hare
running
with the wind
thinking
about people
running the other way
pieces of porcelain
saved from discard
joined together
with gold lacquer
translated vases
Roberta Beach Jacobson
new place
with an unknown language
now home
neighbors greet her by name
and invite her over to play
teacher
learns preferred pronouns
of the kids
in her class, her school
respecting one and all
Terri Watrous Berry
INVITATION
Come to the party
pretend and we can lend you
back your family
blood much thicker than water
we can then use in the stew
Chen-ou Liu
my chanting voice
wavers between hope
and acceptance
swirls of incense hover
over the Buddha
my Jewish friend
turns off the TV and asks
in barely a whisper
can one's fragmented heart
contain two pains at once?
a caged monkey
runs up and down
back and forth
as if it could flee ...
in its eyes I see my fate
Peter Larsen
the sisters
at gamma alpha mu
like their new pledge
she dresses well
and isn’t too pretty
I changed the B
on my English exam
to a D
for showing the big boys
at the school bus stop
antisemites
and white nationalists
don’t harass me
because I look like them
and keep my mouth shut
nobleman,
Jacobin, bourgeois,
or queen--
they’re all just heads to
Madame Guillotine
Ron Scully
reunion
at the reading of the will
with coffee and powdered donuts
each of us learned
finally where we stood
it took her hours
to get me down on my knees
hands in the dirt
it was as good for her
as the growth of the marigolds
Tyson West
richmond summer sweat
we ate the same burgers
smoked the same fags
whites smiling in black face
blacks grinning in white
boys from a murder
of skins and tribes salute
their chosen flag
esprit at ease―all wounded
and corpses will march home
red tribe blue tribe
boundary crossed for pot, guns,
and abortion
all ponder the conundrum
drag queen bible study
Susan Rogers
New Year’s service
the rabbi invites a Muslim
to chant for peace
I bow my head
and smile
I tell my nephew
formerly my niece
I love him
and miss him
summer silence
remember Solomon’s solution
Israel and Gaza--
a true mother
would not sacrifice her child
you share one baby
(Solomon threatened to cut a baby in half to share with two would be mothers)
Lorraine A Padden
lichen
on the headstone
the last name
in a bloodline
rehomed
rushing over
with my last
two oreos…
just before the bell
ends recess
garden wedding
holding hands
amidst the roses
and a few
thorns
Anthony Lusardi
with his mom
a boy with down syndrome
grocery shopping
giving the cashier
food stamps
for next summer
the inlander
with no legs
buying handles
for his surfboard
tomato cans
hand-painted
by special-needs kids
protecting
tulip sprouts
Debbie Strange
wildfires
rage across the tundra . . .
my conscience
chooses to rescue both
predator and prey
three sisters
in hand-me-downs
cling together
at their new school . . .
together, yet apart
we adopt
the deaf Dalmatian pup
no one wanted,
so perfectly imperfect
and worthy of love
Richard L. Matta
bay party cruise
the new single looking
at the bait barge
one seagull mingles
in a cormorant roost
lightning strike
a plasma ball forms
beside me
the way she said
marry or miss me
it vanished
into the purple sky
just echoes remain
reminding me to honor
a blue heron’s space
Genevieve S Alguinaldo
flowers
of different colors
swaying
at the song
of a common blackbird
no two pebbles
are alike
in the fresh stream
but each one
shielded from the sun's heat
under the rubbles
their words
may be different
but their eyes speak
of the same desire to live
C.X. Turner
a forest
of withered trees
in later life
I reject the myth
of them and us
muddy forest
alive
with birdsong
I recall how it feels
to be included
fingernails first
digging in the dark
of my past . . .
the patch where the grass dies
growing up strong
planting
in a garden of rubble
I join a network
of like-minded
individuals
Steve Wilkinson
the sound
of thousands of voices
I don’t know
the language
but I feel their pain
hidden
in plain sight
years of hiding
who he is
afraid to come out
race, religion and gender
instead of division
try to follow the peace
outlined
in your holy books
