Sunday, June 26, 2016

the drizzle of diamonds

the drizzle of diamonds

the sky used to drizzle diamonds
her face turned to heaven as she
stood infant in arms and whirled
good fortune at peak – now gone
to rot – weeping willowed roots
wrapping round her ankles on
the trail to the tunnel where ex-pat
mothers trudge seeking surcease
from the swift sickled saint, sur-
cease from those relentless
slashes of the soul - seeking
entrance to the black tunnel with-
out end - yet - there -through it all
in memory - manifested - ahead 
the drizzle of

Friday, June 24, 2016

A craving poem: a regular day

a regular day
kneeling they fall
headless in blood
others stand above
picture fades to black
as voices chatter
here and there
it’s not just that
bloated bellied
children stare
with wide eyes
of slashed puppies
from televisioned
eyes and screens
begging and I
in witness bearing
madness to not
turn away or
toward …wake
to this sunshined
morning flowers
potted - planted
trees drift...
languidly as
words scream
and a group sits
in for blasts of
gunfire that cannot
be silenced any longer
I long I long I long
for the regular day
when I lifted a mewling
infant to my breast
and curled together
on cool sheets
as milk flowed
in peace