Higher he soars, the one who calls us to more
Eyes stare, the clouds do pirouettes
A silhouette against the advancing sky
Some cry distraught at it happening again:
What's to gain if the Master disappears?
Memories of the first mass
Bread broken, wine shared
Hope poured out, on sandy stone
On a hill gasping with bare bones
Break oh break, hard heart of mine
As our Lord leaves to another sublime clime.
Oh wake, oh wake hard heart of mine
The promises form out of the clay
Of the fabric of time before me
Hope covers my shivering body
In quotes of all that He uncovered
From our knowledge new discovered
What wisdom we missed, Isaiah!
For now, a silhouette against the advancing sky
He goes before us as advocate:
What if the presidents cared?
They said victory was imminent.
With evil intent, with barrel on fatigue,
Beads on mud-caked scentent string,
Leaves so scared they're now silent,
Trees hearing the slaughter of a pig,
While life goes on in the battle ring.
Few years back there was a mountain
Where silicon budded genius software jigs.
Yet eyes were closed on everything.
Where were those billions you're now bent
Over backwards to send over leagues
To warring factions wearing hope thin?
Yeah! What if the presidents cared?
My people die for lack of wisdom.
Life is nothing but an excuse to loot.
Life is nothing but dirt to be trampled
Upon when upside down is the kingdom,
Wishing to have a neck under a boot
As a solution to pain, Wishing that ample
Resources can paint the soil crimson.
Did you care when they dropped out?
Did you bear those same veins on your temple
When hunger ravaged the mother's bossom?
Where were the millions to soothe
And bring hope and make nimble?
How many books did you garrison?
How many teachers did you arm?
How many laboratories have you loaded
With new tech to break them out the prison?
For cultures have marched out of harm
By focusing on growth not the goading.
So the victory still seems imminent,
With evil intent, with barrel on fatigue
The kids out of school, the schools on fire,
Leaves so scared, they all went silent,
Trees hearing the slaughters on the hills,
While you fuel the hateful mire.
Bring me a white goat he said, your fortune is bad he said.
Leaning on the shoulder of my uncle, my cells shiver
Even as I hear they're hot from the thermometer,
My pounding head lets the sound in from his chanting,
And my burning nose hugs my sintering eyes.
White lines zig zag and jiggle with his dancing skin,
The hazy bones on the ground tell him everything.
He knows everything, especially things I don't know.
He speaks with my grand mother and grand father,
And even people further into my genetic past.
But my mind couldn't sit still: A white goat?
To appease my Uwu, who taught me to pair my socks
To avoid tornadoes in the room when I find just one?
Would Doh really hate his son's son to the point
Of wishing him dead before any stub on his chin?
The calligraphy of incensed smoke fills my thoughts,
Staring at his mouth calling my aunts and uncles
Who seek a slab over my unbreathing head.
Is this where dreams all come to die? Where the
Maker warned we will be misled into cavorting with Evil?
My uncle tells me this is ok, tradition suggests, no, DEMANDS,
That in times of trouble, we should guess through bones
Which of those who love us in reality, through the smoke
Can be declared jealous, heinous, whether dead or here,
So we can hate them, and thereby build up this lie as truth.
"One day you'll fall in love"
I heard the knife stab my ear drums
For that word had wheels with sturdy spokes
And rolled away from the bleeding guillotine
With the hearts it had stolen, then broken.
Romeo fell up the balcony while the bats
Roamed the sky, catching the bugs in his
Poetry. The melody cast a shadow at Juliet's
Door and with his head over her heels,
Her heart was gripped by the lyrics
Pouring into the secrecy of that instant.
The crickets sang the background, and
Everything heaven seemed to hang in the air,
The breeze waltzed her hair, her dress
Throwing shimmers to enthralled Romeo:
Never to part, they'll live the ever after ...
Romeo's dead, then fall Juliet.
Over and over the Poison and the Dagger
Start as toddler Egos, wanting what they want
And nothing else. Led by the fear of
Being on an island, we seek to put the
Other in a cage, and have them lark
Out our favorite songs to the rising
Sun, with pretty feathers, as pretty
As the bars that we have offered them
To look out through. Who wants to be alone?
So Romeo dared choose the suicide of women,
And Juliet that of men, each conquering fear of
Their worst death to defeat their worst fear,
For who wants to be alone?
Maybe it wasn't love after all?
Maybe the judges gavelling unknowing children
To a future of multiple homes, fathers and mothers
Or single homes, with guns drawn across the parapet
Aren't breaking love, but something else?
Maybe I shouldn't fear the word as I've been taught
By decades of soap operas, movies, stories
And by this dog-eared blue and read Oxford dictionary.
Maybe we're all wrong to think when we own
A person, we are doing it for Love?
Maybe love is giving it all, and even more
Till we have no more blood to pour?
Maybe Love has given it all, and even more,
So we know how to love our neighbour?
Not because of the carbon complexes that
Stuck in my skin block out some rays
And hide me in dark pictures or from sad days.
Not because my nose is lots different from
Your pointy one, my nostrils swim
On my face, arms spreading at my every whim
Not because of my hair, so fine it weaves
Itself into landscapes of rolling hills,
Or tangos as tightly as two lovers' wills
Not because I'm different from you, and like him,
Not because I'm not from where you are, where
They don't look like me when I look everywhere.
I matter because I breathe a breath not mine.
I matter because of the will I have received
Which is mine, to drive this body so a-grieved
By the rain of darts that life piles on me.
I matter because nobody tells me what to think
Or whom to hate, carrying their lead in my heart
Like Newton's hair, to folly and the coroner's cart.
I matter because once one so crazy bore a cross
That I may matter, no matter what I looked like.
I matter because I can forgive and reach across.
As mere mortal man, where do I go for strength?
Reels of death give me the L in a reek, like
Lazarus died of covid19 in a past story of a tryke
Tumbling into Jerusalem in tears with 2 sisters.
"Pull Heaven to your breast", I hear that often,
And belief is Atlas lifting Earth, Jupiter plus
That weird new 9th planet, because Pluto was
Not enough pain to bear: something newer, heavier
Is what I need for strength, till I stop to think.
Whom did God call to for help when fear gripped
The roommate of flesh? How was the switch flipped?
"Not Mine but Your will be done" Nothing heavier.
Happy Easter to all my readers. We celebrate the greatest miracle of our existence, a symbol of hope as we witness one of the greatest tragedies of our generation. Pick up your heart, somebody needs it now, and also tomorrow...hope never dies.
Rise from the squalor of the promise of death.
Your wrongs hold you down like ladders fallen
To the ground, broken, crying.
The stone off your back rolls to the ground;
Your shoulder speaks out-of-breath to your brain,
And mixed with stress, the message is amplified.
Let it roll to the ground, this is a new day.
"Mother, behold, I make all things new".
Mother torn trying to grip the wind on its
Way to the mountains.
How do you hold the wind? How do you hold fear?
How much pain can one mortal vessel hold
In drips of blood on stone, and gasps for
Air on wood standing in stone?
All things are new.
Behold, the rainbow
Shoots an arrow of renewal past the sunlit
Perfumed clouds. It's all so beautiful that I
forget the nails, the thorns. The rungs of
This ladder lead to a new height.
Rise from the parlor, and celebrate far away
From family and friends. The electrons will
Bring your elation all the way:
It's resurrection time.
Do this today; tomorrow we'll all be back to our
Day to day.
They were not perfect squares, you know, those hard plastic
Sticks of myriad colours that between my teeth like grit
Sent weird signals of unevenness to my infant brain.
If you take one green, then blue, red, then green again,
Addition turns into 4 unicorns you can right with an equal sign.
They aren't perfectly sinusoidal, those hard to bear curves
On my screen, with lab coat, glasses, and eagerness to serve
Me the death toll...like I should pay for a Wuhan virus.
I love when up it goes, peaks, and down comes the sinus
Like sunset announcing a new dawn or some equal sign.
Some say stop counting the dead, for dread needs a father.
So as I toss and turn, afraid the virus gets anymore fodder,
I count my blessings, like the song taught me and my
Siblings to do when you'd rather shiver, melt and die.
Naming the inanimate heals they said, you'll be fine.
So I'm counting oxygen molecules for free floating around,
I'm counting a bed shared, the hugs and smiles, sound
From little children goofing around, arguing about nothing.
I'm counting parents, siblings, forgetting squabbles frothing,
For life's a dainty petal dancing on sun-bathed silver lines
Of air, scintillating in a million diamonds of green leaves
Whistling a new tune of spring, dancing with the puffs above.
The birds flap their garments of rainbow gliding on sheaves
Out of the sky to brighten a smile I bear like finding love
In powder and smoke. Darkness is where these blessings don't shine.
Do not be discouraged. Don't lose your heart as everything seems to fall apart. A chick will emerge from the shell; always does.
What do you see when the rough fire eats at wood,
Softly sintering what was splintered?
It's weird that pain brings togetherness
Where handshakes were fake, and escape
Was the constant. Now we crave to touch,
We crave so much as the mask falls off
To reveal the despair on the decaying
Banana on the medic's lips. Last touch
What I see is pain, but not like Cain's on Abel.
I see the pain of a pierced side, or thorns
Crowning the start of a battle for souls.
I see the pressure of nails dodging wrist veins,
But getting some, missing the bone, hanging on.
I see years of preparation, patiently waiting
For that moment: the filth of coal felt like
Victory to the Virus smiling. The crown of the
Start of the battle, rattled to the ground.
Pressure, battle, the victor won without a sound.
I see Sunday morning, Peter's out of breath
Chasing John, chasing Mary earlier in the morn.
I see a cloth there, bare, where coal had dared
To start tears down my cheeks with biers. See,
The wood destroyed slowly became the coal of pain, but
What I see is not coal on worldometer's charts;
I see diamonds form, Love's pressure on the Sacred Heart.
Why would you smile at a stranger at the store?
This morning the cat wrecked her pristine couch and
Gouged with lion claws the eyes of her nascent smiles.
Her son got the cue and stood in the path of a passing flu
That knocked him out of his bed onto a sick one
Where temperatures rose and fell to the sound of
The neighbour complaining about the ball that wrecked a
Window. Yesterday, her boys launched a satellite
Off course that took the pieces of glass to the trash.
Why would you smile at the stranger at the store?
That all she's got,
It's all she's got.