Who Will Stop The Onslaught?

A nine-year-old skips
along the centre line
of an abandoned street
imagination empowered
by sunshine blue skies

Till the low rumble
of aircraft startles her
and she runs for cover
praying to an absent God
to take her now, young
heart too bruised to carry on.

A fifteen-year-old huddles
in a dank underground corner
already violated by a war
she did not ask for,
shamed by her body’s betrayal
praying for a death more forgiving

A mother holds her baby close
tremors such an indelible part of life now
grasps for a God she once believed in
sees the vacancy in adolescent eyes
the joylessness of her weeping child
prays for a way out of this hell.



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Alchemy

Searching for the alchemy
to transform this chaos –
Do they understand depravity,
those who dwell in exurbs,
blinded by their own opulence?

Children are dying, pawns
in a political sham – I know
we’re tired, but now is not
the time to sleep.

(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image mine)

Fences

Look at us building fences
pretending we have differences

Do we not hunger the same
hunt in the same places?

Do we not strive with equal intent
build our nests with the same ferocity?

Forgo passion for survival?
Let us stop pretending

Let down these walls
admit to our vulnerabilities

align our purposes, and
fight a more fearsome foe.

(Fences first appeared here in March, 2018. Image my own)

Responsibility vs Love

Like Atlas, I bear
the world’s weight
call it responsibility –
a painful delusion
requiring walls

Life has its own rhythm –
light and dark,
joyous and sorrowful –
orchestration outside
of my domain

Love, however,
is limitless
in its capacity –
open-hearted acceptance
protection in itself.

Trading one focus
for another
permits appreciation –
I vow to assert love
and forgo control.

Grateful Pause (Paws)

I’ve been a grumpy lion
lashing out in pain –
punctured shell smarting
by an objectionable barb.

I am a prideful feline,
with a formidable roar –
an offensive defence
intended to intimidate.

Even so, you ventured near
and in a single act of good,
disarmed my furious outrage,
calmed this bellowing beast.

Like a mouse, you quietly –
with understated grace –
gestured with such kindness,
I withdrew all complaint.

You restored my faith in beauty,
revived a nostalgic sense of bliss,
offered possibilities: sweet and
unexpected; soothed my soul

An not, I have noted, without
self-sacrifice on your part –
I am not so egocentric
to have missed the cross you bear.

Your gentle demeanour prevailing
over my abhorrent rant,
is a worth a million thank you’s
to a wounded-heart cat, like me.

(Image my own. This poem first appeared here February, 2015)

Family Rifts

Division, the determining factor
in their relationship –
who can understand
the dynamics of blood ties?

Cracked images suggest
a camaraderie, at least
once upon a time, and who
recalls the cause of the rift?

Fixated on the anger
distance a monument
to the breach, till one dies
and the absence is cemented

(Image my own)

Distance

Even in togetherness there is distance.

I am alone.

A central figure, distracted,
aiming for contact –
unable to eviscerate control –
repeatedly producing a singular confusion.

Define success
Is it the one on the top,
the know-it-all,
or are these the mechanisms
of estrangement?

I am unable to discern-
stability never more than a dalliance.

The pavement ahead whispers
promises of a sense of belonging…
Can I tolerate the quest?

Unfulfilled, I am protective
fear off-shoots of depression,
shield tender inner places…

Bring on change, there are others
watching, looking to me
as an example.

I can strive
on their behalf

Never alone.

Always distances to cross.

(Distance first appeared here February, 2017. Image my own)