Thursday, October 20, 2016

Fluent In Loss

Poetry in Politics is not new; neither is Politics in Poetry.

Abraham Lincoln said in a speech:
 "I shall adopt new views so fast as they shall appear to be true views."
“I stand as a witness to the common lot, 
"survivor of that time, that place,” wrote Anna Akhmatova in 1961.

If the twain ever meet
Will it be a 'twain wreck'?

© Fluent In Loss

Vomited secrets from the mouth
Of a river, dizzy from its whirling
Waltz, echo in Prevarication Canyon;
Will you ever forget how it goes
When you are singing the next verse?
When the house you exit will not?
When the “cats cradle” is nothing
More than tangled finger-strings?

Stacked plates made of paper
Mache in a calm, blue sky where
The finger pointing at Adam, who is
Thirsty for forgiveness in this
Thin-layered, cheap concrete world,
That locks him behind a door
Thick with the sins of the father,
Warns him not to look back.

Give me your tired, your poor laundry,
Your glasses half full of photos, and
Claim your life tastes like moths
Clinging to life after they crash and burn;
Clearly you lost Honey’s moon; you’re
Clueless so just pull the muzzle over the
Clownish Crows Cawing because the
Back of your hand brushed my doorknob.

Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

(painting #1 no title by Fred Calleri and #2 Milk Run by Fred Calleri)