Whose child is this, trussed
in tubes , naked to the type of lights
and air that are meant to clear his head,
to help him slough sick cells,
and nurses come to change
the precise points of pushed air?
A son in a stone quarry,
a daughter staring at the seams
she will never wear. Barterable
beloveds, bent to the harrow and hem,
quilted in earth and cloth of cheap labor.
Drowned dreams on sleepless faces,
smudged cheeks not yet bristling
with any beard nor lips
been first kissed. Society is a fire-eater,
a bored ship, a water-logged ruin,
an eave heavy barn.
The belly and beast is too full
to wait another night.
Stars gasp in a green sky
and yellow clouds strain
against lamb’s blood doors.
Wise men sit in oval observation
of a broken peace on earth
while Katrina survivors are still
stumbling the ocean gulped wards
of maternity rooms where babies
were swaddled and moved
to god knows where and father’s
grieved at the sunken dreams
of virgin soil on which to build their homes.
A trill of terror echoes in the ancient lands;
so common, so historical a thing,
but nonetheless a song on sorrowful night.
No crusted crowns are kept securely placed
and everyone hates the top dog
as if he weren’t a puppet, after all.
Stranded diviners in Denver
look out onto rough-plowed runways
wondering exactly where their baggage
of fine gifts have gone.
In Maine Medical, there is a child,
waiting for a mother to come
rescue him from his homelessness,
does not even cry any more
as he waits for love to lift him
from his airtight incubator.
Author notes
Is anything any less precious and holy?
#2.
In a list
A contest entry
- Winter & the Holiday Season by Shadow of a Crow.
450 points, ended December 24, 2006, 11 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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outstanding
Can I just say this piece really moved me and must be penned by a very powerful and observant writer. You were so dead on with many points. The thing I liked about this piece is the things that it pointed out that have been happening all year or recently or just everyday/every year things that don't get solved around the so-called charitable holiday season. Some of the comparisons you used such as the "wise men sitting in oval observation" were unique, superb, and clever. I wish I could be the writer of such a great piece as this. There is much more to say, but I think your poem says it all. Good luck in the contest.
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tk u
Soemtimes I worry about being a pulpit pounder..then, I consider how long we have sealed our soul songs in...and I simply let what I feel be what it wants to be. thank you for your kind comments and Merry Christmas this morning, friend.
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drowned dreams of sleepless faces....a broken peace on earth...filled me with pain.. well written poem
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ty nilav... in attempting to suggest the tragedies we have gone through, as earth and people, I played with phrases and words...so as to make the poem contemporary yet agesless... thank you for the visit and the comment.
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The absence of the love of God is hard enough to bare throught the year for many survivors of tragic events.Made all the harder to understand during the Christmas season.Especially by innocents.Very riviting emotional piece you've penned waxing poetic.~~Suseann
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Yes, but, perhaps, if we coudl get it right, we could forgive...and surrender....and simply wait out the rough times with the weather..knwoing,,spring and new beginnings to come.... tk you gf, I appeciate your loyalty to my poetry.
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