Grief has stolen the words
from my throat: and I want to burn
candles in their places. Little white tapers
to take the place of every word purloined
from my voice box, white candles
to stand as silent sentries for every
morpheme that refuses to march up
my tongue and out of my lips. Those words instead
want to pull my tongue backwards and
curl up inside its rug for warmth and
safety. They want to duck behind my
stained and crooked molars, out of sight
from the open air and the wind that passes
in and out of my mouth. Continue reading →
You see bodies like broken dolls free-falling
onto the clean and deserted pavement.
Blood slides out of tiny crevice and huge chasm wounds
and joins the shells of flesh as they collapse and land
onto the asphalt. You swear that you can see
breath exiting as the bodies hit the ground – but the breath
always climbs upward, leaving its old ribcages behind.
Now, there is nothing left but smoke and desolate silence as
crumpled bodies and crumpled trucks lay empty
underneath the orchid, scarlet, and maize colored dawn.
Suddenly there is only blackness –
you fall from dreams into waking –
and land with a sudden jolt –
and there is only you, your trembling limbs,
your quivering nerves running scared up and down
the length of your body,
and the half-lit cloak of night that kept you company
while you slept. You sit up, shirtless and sweat-drenched,
the survivor of yet another head-on collision
between you and nightmare.
This was written for Read Write Poem Prompt #106: Repeat After Me.. Sylvia Plath was my inspiration for this poem, in which I chose to use one of Rethabile’s suggestions for this prompt, repeating an idea. Mine is almost a refrain I think, or variations on a theme. I hope you enjoy the read.
a burning half-morning light,
so faint that candles cannot even
make love with it lest they disturb the
shadow of amber that it drops onto the wall. And the
pen – there’s a certain rhythm to the
scribble and the scratch, the
hip-hop beat in ancient form Continue reading →
Tuesday, April 21 is Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day), and Poetry Super Highway published a special issue this week to commemorate this. My poem, “Somewhere”, appears in this issue of PSH Weekly. You can read “Somewhere” at: http://poetrysuperhighway.com/ppa/ppa603b.html#fp10
I also read this poem on the April 19th edition of Poetry Super Highway Live. To hear the poem and to listen to April’s edition of the show, please visit:
the sun has spilled upon his face
light makes enemies of darkened thoughts
cruel and wanton
wanting to seize him and kill him
turn him into death itself
walking, walking in endless night Continue reading →
Heartbreak feels good.
So good it hurts deep down to your spine,
deep down to your soul.
You want that ache over and over again;
it’s your drug,
and you need your fix.
You need the pain to survive; Continue reading →