Someone told me, the night before last,
that, my poem I read to him was nice.
Perhaps he meant it as a compliment,
in an understated way,
but I took it as a death sentence.
the harshest penalty…

Oh, have I come to this day..
this part of my life, where all the passion
my intense focused enthusiasm
has suddenly melted away?
And, I am baking poetic sugar cookies
that are not extraordinary, profound or moving
but they are nice to have in the cupboard?

That’s really not my type of baking,
but life, since March, has been mostly in reverse.
Desperate to bake anything at all
I have stood on my head to resurrect
those feelings, I used to have.
When I was the idealist, the slicing satirist
The rabid warrior for the weak, the all out
crusader of the unloved, the liberator of tragic dreams.
Now, I am synthesized into a shake and bake chicken,
a hamburger helper, a retro kitchen,
of boring but nutritious meals.

I could blame it on that muse..
She’s locked up in some room
watching Lucille Ball…
wishing for those good ol days
that now only exist
in the fogalated minds of…
the Boomer Babies or 3am TV.
I still need to show my love,
someway, somehow to everyone born
on this planet with me.

While I’m still alive, I don’t want to write
verses that are sweet, vapid, useless.
I want to write change, humor, hope, and unity
to combat the insanity.
I want to write beauty and honesty and delicate harmony
string them up in a tree like wind chimes…
Let them play all night all day,
and burn the candles down to their puddles while
obsessed, I struggle until my very last breath,
to never write another poem,
that elicits a barely-there
weak smile, with a tepid chaser of

Karima Hoisan
Sept. 3, 2020
Costa Rica

(En Español)


Alguien me dijo, anteanoche,
eso, mi poema que le leí era agradable.
Quizás lo dijo como un cumplido,
de una manera sobria,
pero lo tomé como una sentencia de muerte.
la pena más dura …

Oh, he venido a este día …
esta parte de mi vida, donde toda la pasión
mi intenso entusiasmo concentrado
se ha derretido de repente?
Y estoy horneando galletas de azúcar poéticas
que no sean extraordinarios, profundos ni conmovedores
pero es bueno tenerlos en el armario?

Ese no es realmente mi tipo de horneado,
pero la vida, desde marzo, ha sido mayormente al revés.
Desesperado por hornear cualquier cosa
Me he puesto de cabeza para resucitar
esos sentimientos, solía tener.
Cuando yo era el idealista, el satírico cortador
El guerrero rabioso para los débiles, el todo fuera
cruzado de los no amados, liberador de sueños trágicos.
Ahora, estoy sintetizado en un pollo batido y horneado,
un paquete de arroz con hamburguesa,
una cocina retro, de comidas aburridas aun nutritivas.

Podría culpar a esa musa …
Ella está encerrada en alguna habitación
viendo a Lucille Ball …
deseando esos buenos días
que ahora solo existen
en las mentes neblinadas de …
los Boomer Babies o la televisión de las 3 am.
Todavía necesito mostrar mi amor
de alguna manera, de alguna manera para todos los nacidos
en este planeta conmigo.

Mientras esté vivo, no quiero escribir
versos que son dulces, insípidos, inútiles.
Quiero escribir cambio, humor, esperanza y unidad.
para combatir la locura.
Quiero escribir belleza y honestidad y delicada armonía.
colócalos en un árbol como campanillas de viento …
Déjalos tocar toda la noche todo el día
y quemar las velas hasta los charcos mientras
obsesionado, lucho hasta mi último aliento,
para nunca escribir otro poema,
que provoca un apenas
sonrisa débil y un traguito tibio de

Karima Hoisan
3 de septiembre de 2020
Costa Rica

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17 Responses to Nice

  1. Sabiscuit says:

    Es mejor que una fuerza de la naturaleza no sea “agradable”. Soy muy sensible y esto me molestaría por años. Creando arte es probablemente la única salida.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Thank you Sabiscuit..I actually saw the humor in it quickly and just took it as a heads up to not let my poetry slip into a couch potato before I realized it. Thank you for expressing your thoughts and a bit of concern. I appreciate that.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Sabiscuit says:

        Glad you’re okay. I got “fierce contemplation” in the Spanish version and “dismay” from the English. So I summed up the two and went with “concern”. You’re a stronger person than I am.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Smiles, not sure I’m stronger, but I am guessing, older, and that can help. Obviously it did affect me, or I doubt this poem would have been born. Thanks for wondering….


  3. daleinnis says:

    Ha! Don’t believe it, your work has been so much more than nice lately; despite, or even because of, these crazy times, you still have the fire!

    Liked by 3 people

    • Thank you might be a little biased (so glad you are:) but your words drowned the echoing adjective, that brought me here to try and write it out:) Thank you so much for your unfailing support of all I do..and what we do together too:)


  4. Hoyt says:

    You have just written yet another poem of “beauty and honesty and delicate harmony.” I honestly have not read any of your many works that doesn’t speak for the reader, society or the heavens. Your poems are without parallel!. I hold each and every one close to my heart. So “poetic sugar cookies?’ Not a chance!

    Liked by 3 people

    • You made me smile Hoyt:) and your support for my poetry has been unconditional over sooo many years…I think it’s natural for a poet or writer to do a reality check once in a while and look at what they are writing..Has it lost the spark? This comment, sent me to do just that…Passes the tray to him..Cookie? (kidding)


  5. Your words are always deep and profound, require much thought. Perhaps the nice person was lacking in vocabulary many are they do not know what to say. My Father’s comment on a any new dress I bought was “quite smart”. He was well meaning but felt so disappointing and the words never changed. Those who have no expression just like.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Thank you Nanette for this comment. You are right of course, some people do not know exactly how to express what they are feeling, and I also admit my poetry at times is not that easy to understand..and of course not everyone likes everything we do in this life..That’s for sure! In any case inspiration comes from many unexpected places.. I really am happy this dialogue could inspire a poem:)


  7. It seems to be right what we say in Germany:
    “Nett ist die kleine Schwester von Scheiße”
    Which means: Nice is the little sister of shit.
    Sorry for the harsh words but I am a visualizer 🙂
    Back to my sick-bed …

    Liked by 4 people

  8. allenrizzi says:

    As a writer for the last 60 years, I identified with this. When someone refers to one of my books as a “nice little read,” I feel they missed the boat completely. 😒

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Joel Abakah says:

    I think people mostly refer to a poem as nice when they did not fully comprehend the idea conveyed or they just lack the deep expression to accurately describe their appreciation so they go along with the simplicity of saying ‘nice’.
    I get you, Karima. Such a relevant poem💚

    Liked by 1 person

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