Lina Jamison
art : poetry : essays
Sunday, April 05, 2026
Friday, April 03, 2026
Life is like
With arrivals and departures
‘Cept there’s no turning there
Once you’re truly up in the air.
Some make it through. Some don’t.
They never get past
Customs or immigration.
Some lose their luggage
And live to the fullest.
Some have all the time
Watching more arrivals
More early departures.
But when you’re, oh, so delayed,
You’d want to depart yourself
See what’s behind that gate.
MLJ03042026
Tuesday, March 31, 2026
Sunday, March 22, 2026
Sunday, March 15, 2026
Nearly cut off my fingers
A taste of the tropics, you’d say
With plastic straws for sipping
That refreshing sweet juice within
But where to get a bolo machete
For that jelly meat in its belly?
So you go about laboring
The way you’d seen husking
Voila! But the shell needed cracking
And your kitchen knife nearly taking
Close your eyes
Don’t even look at the price
Just fill it up.
It’s just gas.
For somewhere
Soldiers
Are going home
In pieces
Tearing into
Their mothers’ hearts.
Close your eyes
Don’t even look at the numbers
Just let them die.
Collateral damage.
For somewhere
Kings
Are playing games
With their pawns
Are you feeding
Into their egos and pride?
Close your eyes…
MLJ15032026OnIts15thDay
Saturday, March 14, 2026
Monday, March 09, 2026
Now and Then
Where did I put my keys?
Where’s my phone?
Where are my glasses?
Why did I come here?
What did I come here for?
What’s my password again?
On Control
“Which do you think gives the government more control? A population that goes to work, earns money, buys things that they can’t really afford so they get into debt so they have to go back to work, do more of the thing that they don’t really like to get more money to pay the debt for the thing that they didn’t really need..” – TN -
Everyone Thought Africa Would Be Hit the Hardest… They Were Wrong
Saturday, March 07, 2026
Global War on Terror
When history repeats itself...
2005 - I wept for parents who lost their children in Iraq or Afghanistan.
2026 - Repeat...
Saturday, February 28, 2026
Joyful
Not in the shiny red Spanish plums
Not in her lush vegetable garden
Not in the jumpy fish so fresh
Not in the blinding whiteness
Of sea salt brimming in storage
Not in the scent of fresh firewood
Not in the sight of the water buffalo.
Grandma’s joy she draws from deep within
Every warm breath for a new day again
Every Bible verse and hymn
Her growing granddaughter
Her first words: “Nanay,” “Lolo,” “Auntie”
Her voice as her first prayer she utters.
Grandma’s joy she draws from deep within
As the crickets sing. The chickens cluck and coo.
And her little girl’s tiny limbs around her.
MLJ28022026
Friday, February 27, 2026
Light Bulb
“I think that… teachers fall in love with is like that light bulb, watching someone get something that you understand, that you’re giving to them, then it clicks... Never underestimate the power and the impact that teachers can have in your life.” – Josh Johnson -
"...it's more profitable to be a bastard... No money is enough... You can't get higher than space... The man has been to space. There's nowhere else to go 'cause he's not going to heaven... We need to get back in stores the way that it used to be. One of the problems is that Amazon's too powerful. They wouldn't be too powerful if we start shopping again at the stores that we that we shopped at before Amazon." - JJ -
Tuesday, February 24, 2026
The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch
S: Yes! Seven years ago. When I was one year old.
T: Yeah, right. I made it for my Kindergarten class during COVID years. But I can't make videos anymore...
S: It's okay. I subscribed though. Maybe you'll make more next time...
Friday, February 20, 2026
Tuesday, February 17, 2026
Saturday, February 14, 2026
Saturday, February 07, 2026
A NEW HOLE IN THE WALL
What it was, of course, there was no telling
Until her second grader
To the bathroom went
And thought it’d be best
To challenge another
Whose legs were shorter.
By chance, Teacher opened the door
To find her wide-eyed speeding boy
Slipping, hitting his head on the wall
Making a hole fit for a golf ball.
I swear she could’ve fainted
As the bloody head was raised
So to the Office they both sped
As she prayed for God’s Grace.
Soon her great speedy boy
Will be back to school
Sporting staples or stitches
He’d probably hide like hickies.
Now Teacher thinks it’d be a bore
If she would patch the new hole
And terminate tales of follies
Such as reckless hall races.
MLJ06022026OnCompetitiveBoys




















