that never became
for one reason
or another
1.
This is not a poem,
for there is no poetry
in burgeoning absentia
2.
We descended, through strata,
layers of earth,
each step
taking us closer
and farther away
than ever we had dreamed.
3.
the days when you
could see the sun
right through me
or the way
your eyes
slide off my skin
unable to find purchase
on the surface.
4.
There is a child crying outside
the wail
rises
knocking finches
from the dying branches of the
old elm in our yard.
5.
Confrontation
makes us feel
makes our blood move
6.
Fill my eyes
with razors
how vision
clears
through a haze
of blood
Expectation sweat
smells sweet
8.
There was no flourish
when you went
just the change
from presence to absence
a shift in the air
a removal of near
And when you came
there was jasmine
and spices
there was exotic music
hovering
9.
You always said
there was something pure about hate
The way it would arc
and spark between us
a tesla coil writhing
in blue witch-fire agitations
10.
You have wounda reminder of loss
around my finger
5 comments:
There is a child crying outside
the wail rises
knocking finches
from the dying branches
of the old elm in our yard.
This is the weight of a child's cry,
heavier than a finch.
Harder than bird song
it scalps the trees
and drives birds to flight.
Why then
am I so afraid
that someone will come and silence it.
mmm. sorry, pinched one of your snippets.
There's a big trial on over here at the moment for a small child, Nia Glassie, whose family killed her by various means of abuse and neglect. They hung her from a clothesline and put her in a dryer for God's sakes!
Now during the trial, all are denying any responsibility. It makes my blood boil.
Someone must be held responsible for that child dying. IMO I would hold the entire family responsible. All of them should stand up and say, I should have taken steps to care for and protect that child, I did nothing, and therefore I share responsibility for her death.
You are welcome to any and all of my snippets kid *smile*
that is actually a damn fine poem
I have heard something about the child you mention, it made news over here also.
Child abuse is rampant in western society, and for the life of me, I cannot understand why
They are precious,
they are defenseless
and they are our sacred responsibility to protect
I assume in the family history, there will be abuse in the past of the mother and father etc
but I never understood how someone can use this as an excuse for perpetrating violence on their own children,it just doesn't make any sense to me, it never will.
it really doesn't make sense at all.
Thanks for not minding. I will, of course, include your name with it if I send it anywhere.
Number three talks to me.
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