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Friday, April 11, 2014

PAD - Day 11 - 6 Poems on Various Statements



shall there be infants
tossed into ovens
as sticks of firewood
flashing families into
ash

Never Again
shall a family
pack their
things to run
and have no
where to go

Never Again
shall a people
be forcefully ex-
patriated left
to beg entrance
at closed harbours
turned away
again and again
and

Never
again

Because

Still

Humanity cannot
as yet be entrusted
to be humane
genocide continues
despite the floating ash
of infants
never grown to tell
their parents’ stories

Still -
the present repeats the
horrors of the past sometimes
with less precision with
a different shade of skin
with a twist of the horror
the story repeats across
the globe
and so

Never Again
shall the Jewish
people birth babies
subject to ejection
depending upon the
kindness of others

Never again
shall
Jews
wander
without a home
in which to
land
where open
arms await

~
“If Money Can Fix It – It Isn’t A Problem”

Ah there are those that dream of lotteries
raining green paper in swirls of comfort
Yet, those problems that can be covered
with green paper are but scratches in the
life of love, of health, of peace of mind -the
tortured soul with green paper – lies awake
on a higher thread count – tossing – the
unfinished sonata, the wooden novel -
the blank canvas remain untouched by
the whirl of green paper falling like so
many torn leaves.

~

“Life is Short”

Used to be a saying
simple and quite trite
until a certain
sensibility illuminates
this is actually quite right

~
With Liberty and Justice “Invisible” For All

Soo many little ones
hands pressed to their
chest recited words to
waving banners – sadly
more correct than
they would have guessed

~
“Trust me”

Trust me
he said
and she did
and remarkably
although so often
the result had been
quite dismally different
this time with hope springing
again eternal – he was all he said

~

“You Get One Ride on the Merry-Go-Round”

“You only get one ride on the merry-go-round”
my father often said
shaking young raven
hair from his intense eyes –
I was just past sixteen
when he added an addendum
with a tender surprised smile -
“You are my second ride”
and I tried -
I tried to make
it a good one
up to – and past
the day he lay –
upon crisp white
sheets – cologne
combed through his
silver-shot hair -
arms rising and
falling to the sound
of a calliope only he
and I heard in that
final soft summer song
I tried – I try
still
riding

~


1 comment:

  1. So touched by the wise messages these poems so beautifully convey...

    ReplyDelete