The skin is thin
clover, delicate egg wash
whilst November's winter wind
is knife
screeching white swastikas
of hate
And language of fear
touches tongue
ice
or fire
The light bulb is busted
and painting is rust
Autumn leaves on my feet
is choir
creaking notes of discord
The voice of truth
is lost key
paper or
rock
Exhale the burn
and myopic opinions of
the arrogant crowd
Mute the noise outside
And listen
for the walls are coming up
Inside our heads
Inside our hearts
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight. Perhaps I should say, that the walls have already gone way up. A short commentary on the heated political discussions that is dividing families and friends in North America and beyond. I am staying away from FB for the moment.
Good thing to do to stay away from FB. Walls are being put up every which way, sad really.
ReplyDeleteI have seen them growing for so long... your images bring back my memories of cold war too... and it's not only in North America the walls are growing.. love your wordplay, cannot stand the situation.
ReplyDeleteThat last stanza is heartbreaking wisdom. The repetition works so well... It carves the point inside the bones.
ReplyDeleteYou manage to bring poetry into politics - the first stanza in particular is very oblique (well, all but the swastikas) and lovely.
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely, soulful and melodic.
ReplyDeleteGreat poetry out of what feels like a deep sadness. 'The voice of truth is lost key' is so poignant.
ReplyDeleteI have stayed clear of all the political bantering, ranting and raving on FB. There's too much propaganda being bandied about as truth. I agree with your poetical stance, Grace.
ReplyDeleteA masterful strangely beautiful write.
ReplyDeleteYour words have touched me. I feel quite sad.
Kind regards
Anna :o]
Well composed and thought provoking If one takes a look...
ReplyDeleteIt is a very sad and dark time for the world and you have done a moving and masterful job of expressing that despair. Powerful images captured in beautifully crafted lines. An important piece.
ReplyDeleteI too have stayed away from the politucal hooha o FB...except the next day I posted for a call to unity and to be kind to each other. I see the physical walls going up. Your poem is excellent and despairing.
ReplyDeleteFabulous images... loved the opening lines.
ReplyDelete...and the walls are coming up (inside heads & hearts) I so hope not. Time will tell ... this poem certainly is "in the moment"...
ReplyDeleteWonderful imagery that explains and exasperating situation. Also a terrifying one I too hope that walls don't go up in hearts and heads we need them now more than ever!
ReplyDeleteindeed...far too many divisions. The political dialogue on facebook is, fortunately, slowly waning, but definitely not gone yet.
ReplyDeleteThe walls always revolve around money and power. It seems like the greater the access the greater the hate.
ReplyDeleteIndeed the walls are going up. I wasn't there but it feels like 1930's Germany. Your poem reflects a lot of what we in our masses in the States are feeling: isolation, loss, lost and fear. Violence seems to be the coin of the day. Better to retreat into poetry where the soul can recover and shine. Jane
ReplyDeleteI love the opening image of skin being made of clover.
ReplyDeleteThis is AWESOME:
"November's winter wind
is knife
screeching white swastikas"
Also this:
"Autumn leaves on my feet
is choir
creaking notes of discord"
I've been staying away for months. It's so heartbreaking. Much love and hugs and hope for unity soon.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully done, Grace. This is such a classy and elegant way of commenting on current events. :-)
ReplyDeleteHappy weekend.
~Imelda
Love your poem - hate the walls
ReplyDeleteIt has been horribly divisive. I hate walls, and I feel them all around me with my family.
ReplyDeleteStrong piece, Grace. "Autumn leaves on my feet
ReplyDeleteis choir"...well put, that is such fabulous music. <3
Walls to be put up will create lots of uneasiness. Hopefully it is not as that of the Berlin wall.
ReplyDeleteHank
Lordy lordy lordy one must say at the very least it has been an interesting 13 days thus far. That which was simmering below the surface is finding heat and its boil.
ReplyDeleteSo am I. I rarely go there anymore as it is anyway. Yes, I can feel the walls....
ReplyDeleteKay
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