Tuesday, April 8, 2014

PAD - Day 8 - Violent and Peaceful

She walks

before her the distant
horizon of Humvees
whirling red dust -
Behind her boyhood
playmates hurl rage
at her breast
a suckling infant
velvet skin, soft
hands stroking
the flow of milk
As Peace walks
Hope in aching
arms – Walks
on and on
and on
leaving bloody
in the dust


Coffee Time

They spoke of poetry
she said something witty
over steaming mugs of
coffee in pottery cups
they bought together
at the outdoor market
They spoke of poetry
and his soft -sudden
cold eyes flashed as
back handed the cup
against the wall
coffee dripping in
dark streams
shards of bright
colors stuck in
her bemused cheek
sparkling in the sun
light – he shouted
sounds without sanity
words without meaning
as blood flowered
on her cheek
outside cherry blossoms
bloomed and
He bathed her cheek
with cool water on
a clean dish towel
she swept the floor
and he cried as she
watched pretty cherry
blossoms bloom outside
over his shoulder as he
clutched her close


Children Listen

They crouch in the dark
behind their shared bed-
room door and listen to
words that are too loud
to have meaning beyond
ugly – they can feel walls
shake with rage feel the
spray of spittle as parents
massacre each other – only
to live again -reconstituted
in the always sudden quiet –
the clinking of a glass or two
and finally the sound of their
tip-toed walk-to their softly
shut door and then the loud
inexplicable, creaking sighs
of bedsprings in the night

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