Skip to main content

In Flight (Head-Line Poetry 11-9-09)


Hasan tied to mosque of 9/11 hijackers
These things scatter like shards of steel carried in the air, gaping jaws, flags, winged by the soaring flesh of gravity, memories leap up, piercing the hue of skin.

More troops needed for Afghanistan: U.S. General Casey
And while they’re airborne in that nameless sky, because only vengeance can offer them comfort while torture moves in chorus with their stillness, they shall go in any direction the sightless point.

For Opponents of Abortion, a Victory in Health Care Vote
Foul captivity swells within these rich designs as their victory aborts the revered manuscript and their dream unveils our snatched decline.

UK honors fallen as Afghan death toll rises
The song’s been bellowing for much too long on behalf of death and the pale memory of death, so what song shall we sing for the victims?
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman
32 comments
read the poem

SKYFALL

Skyfall... We continue to play along with an unnatural game that has serious consequences, soon we'll find ourselves enslaved without recourse to the system. (Is that true of local charades?) Yes. (Why can't we free ourselves from the system?) The madness of money. (It's not money, it's people, right?) It's both, money and us in tandem, thus assuring money's might and our adherance to its loudness. (Madness...) Indeed. © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
1 comment
read the poem

THE ROCK HOLDS

The rock holds the soil in and from the soil springs the tree, the green of LIFE rolling from the blue, rising to the occasion of itself. . “Be!”, the (H)eartH declares, “Be what you are!” . (We thought we were!) . (We think we are!) . “You are, but not freely, therefore, only a thought, and a thought without much thinking, as if you were scared into it.”, the (H)eartH added. . [a quietude begins, the truth being heard and heeded, grooving to the flow] ~ © 2017 Mark Richard Prime
Post a Comment
read the poem