first blush of snow
tinges white porcelain dust
on shriveled earth,
loud hateful words tangled with smoke-
where is south wind to lift gloom away?
~0~
night chills our bones
tired with drawn out war striking
streets to ghost towns,
winter comes with shattered sky-
where is blue moon to drown our aches?
~0~
take these broken parts
and hammer them to a canvas
with winter's fire,
your hands are a gardeners'
blooming each fragment to petaled sun-
Posted for OpenLinkNight - D'verse Poets Pub ~ I am on a short study break but will be around to visit ~ Happy Thanksgiving to our US friends ~
Before war
is the war
of words
That burns our mind
That changes our faces to birds
of darkness
Before air
convulses to
smoke
& steeps the tongue
with arid bitter
stones
Before space is a crypt
That strikes &
strikes
Until all the sky is fireball
Until all the land is wasted ash
There is you & i
At opposite sides of
grain fields
We hide snakes & poison
under our cloaks
We tally hate & splintered bones
And boast of treasures
as if its our right
as if its our prize
Under the wind-broken tree,
We put on our costume & war paint
choosing our weapons carefully
We create our theater & drama:
Sounds of men dying
slow
Sirens as the city rips to
craters
We did nothing to stave off
hate &
rumors of defense
We stood mute with
no answers
no resolutions
We are already at
war
Posted for: D'verse Poets Pub - We are talking of war ~ Hosted by Gabriella ~
