Sunken Bridge

The bridge flood and filled 

The moss untilled

The sight of something old

Adding ages to my soul

At Mirrors Edge

The water

The water

The water

Still as glass

Only broken by a fishes kiss

The world shines within

Glistening blue sky

A line of trees

The sun on their leaves

Day and Night portrayed

In one shimmering ricochet

The Fairy

She made her home in a mushroom by the bank of the moat and every morning dived into the glassy waters. She kissed the fishes that rose to greet her and danced on top of lily pads. In the afternoon, she would weave coats of grass and moss to be sold at the Sunday market and when her work was done she would harness a dragonfly and collect dew from the high most trees. In the evening she would hide among the rushes and sing songs with the frogs and crickets till the night was still and as she lay to sleep in her mushroom bed she would watch the moon and think until she with the world feel asleep.

X: Not Your Figurehead

A little poem exercise, influenced from a workshop I went to on Saturday. We picked a painting and then wrote from the perspective of some person, creature or thing in that painting. Here is my poem and the painting, you can try to guess what object I picked.

Don’t look at me

I am not to be desired

What you see as perfection

Is no more than the organic creation of nature

I am blemished

Though it is hidden from you

This body struggles to keep this posture

That you so worship

Let this body rest

I can feel the muscles aching 

The hand is shaking 

She wants no more

Don’t look at me

though I am as white as powder

this is not a sign of good health

Let us out of this dress 

I can feel the lungs screaming

As the mouth takes small gasps of breath

She is not a statue

She is not your figurehead

Madame X by John Singer Sargent, 1884 

Two Poems for World War 2

Zyklon B

The ghost that snuffed one million lives

That told one million lies

To the steady beat of the drum

Zyklon B

The silent monster that played like a cat

That preyed on its rats

I heard that is smelled like cheese

Zyklon B

The screams of children were it’s favorite song

All screaming for mom

Like the strings on a violin

Zyklon B

It took their breath

And in return gave them death

Laughing at their cheated screams

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fear

As the men on the radio cried out for blood, for war

The boy on the carpeted floor looked up and saw fear

It sat among the wrinkles of his mother’s tender face

And slid through the furrowed brow of his father.

Will I have to be a soldier one day?

Fear said it all

The boy watched as with each passing day,

more men left the village

Wives stood at gated entrances,

baby in one hand

a small sad wave in the other

Why must they leave?

Because, said Fear, they had no choice

The boy grew he became a man

But the war had not yet ended

Dressed in his best, his mother watched him

Fear perched from her eyelids

Why must we fight?

Because, said Fear, they have to drink

The man fought on the Eastern Front

In the snow in the cold

He grew numb to sight of blood

That this country demanded so much of

He grew numb to sight of the loss

The bodies that pilled wall to wall

How can I live?

Because, whispered Fear, you have me