Tag: poem

Vultures

The vultures were hunted down

No one left to clean up the dead

Bodies filled the ground

Blood hasn’t dried yet

No one left to grieve

To pray

Or to mend

The heart that was broken

Right before the end

Changes

She missed the smell

Of the slightly rotten wood

Covered by the scent of cinnamon

Freshly baked bread

And warm coffee

She missed the morning mist

And the days she felt lonely

As this new home

Carried a new smell

The fresh paint

Had no story to tell

He smiled and assured her

We’ll make it our own

With our son on the way

You’ll never been alone

The Strange Rock

I see the ocean

Waves covering waves

Seeking the sands

As the child reaches out his hands

Rain falls

Tongue extended out

Water erasing their doubts

The desert tired of its droughts

We dance the rain dance

While the waves flood the lands

Far away

Someone sitting to pray

For the house to float

For a help in the form of a boat

For the moon to diminish its pull

For a glass half full

For air to remain

For the crazy and the sain

To unit

Maybe the desert needed the flood

The ocean needed the sand

And we here stand

Witnesses

Of a strong desire

We rest but do not tire

Of this spinning planet

The only home we inhabit

This strange rock called earth

True Power

I find pieces

Among the ashes that were left

Too small to truly tell

But I knew it’s where I sat

Gathering stories

Making believe

That I could escape

That I would leave

I find pieces familiar, yet strange

For I have wandered far

And with time

I grew to love change

I learned that without those pieces

I’m still whole

Shedding them off had failed

To make me feel small

The earth gives me power

And I, like you, little flower

Have learned to push the concrete aside

Have learned that I no longer need to hide

And I came to know my true power

Winds and Memories

This familiar wind

Hot and dry

Carrying pieces of my old self

As it hurries by

And smells that no longer exist

Perfumes no money could buy

This familiar wind

Carries pieces of my old river

Euphrates

Reminding me of nights spent together

Eating ice cream

Watching the candles light up the stream

Making wishes

Dreaming a dream

This wind passes much too quick

And I rush looking for a jar

Or a bottle

I want to save you

For my selfish reasons

And trap you

Like the memories that trap me

In a place that I no longer know

If it still exists

If it could resist

The bombings and the shootings on a small town

How could you, wind, turn this around

And take me to a moment of peace

As I float

Another piece

Of history

That no one remembers

Organic matter

That’s easily recycled

Easily blended

Easily camouflaged

Between the wind and the sand

I reach out my hand

As if to hold yours

My old self

You did good

You escaped that neighborhood

Where no child, or adult

Was safe

Where bombs did not discriminate

Stuck between love and hate

You soared far

And maybe you have the winds to thank

Or a God somewhere

Watching a dreaming child

And allowing her to yet dream

Oh how these dreams have changed

How your life has changed

Old self

You did great