the days of Shouting
the days of Explosions
the days of Falling walls
the days of friends calling for their friends
the days for you to hide with me
in the auditorium of an abandoned movie theater
--do you remember that film about the dog
who became a church for a nation of ants?
walk with me--see this cemetery?
yesterday we raised ourselves from the dead
raised our words over our heads
raised our arms over the blades
green green green blades
grass grass the grass of you
all this land around your smile
all the blades green blades of Easter
::: ::: :::
[Picture: "Step Over Your Shadow" & The Weight by reading_is_dangerous]
the days of Explosions
the days of Falling walls
the days of friends calling for their friends
the days for you to hide with me
in the auditorium of an abandoned movie theater
--do you remember that film about the dog
who became a church for a nation of ants?
walk with me--see this cemetery?
yesterday we raised ourselves from the dead
raised our words over our heads
raised our arms over the blades
green green green blades
grass grass the grass of you
all this land around your smile
all the blades green blades of Easter
::: ::: :::
[Picture: "Step Over Your Shadow" & The Weight by reading_is_dangerous]
Posts
MILKY MURDERERS
ReplyDeleteSwitchblades are green in winter
Like silent days full of singing
The explosion of the mood
Send a rainbow
To the garage of the storm
Ready to build other territories
Of snow motions
In the dark eyes of nowhere
Dazzle gives a blow
To energy eaters
Consuming them in mutations
Like a new kind of M&M's
My brother planted wheat, next to the small cemetery where our father, and his father are buried. Building on the peace we enjoy here, his son will do the same.
ReplyDeleteWe will vote in November, and raise our silent voices, that echoe the dreams of our fathers.
The wheat was planted last fall, and lay dormant under the snow, and like our father's dreams, will produce food for the body, and for the soul.
In due time.
Give Peace a chance.
I become so sad when I read your words
ReplyDeletea man who have roots buryed deep in the soul of a suffering Land
I do not known what I can do or write or tell to you.
cause I do not believe in an almighty God who want to hear my prayers and ... I fear Man
Ha ! give peace a chance ! tell that to all those who have suffered and are still dying every day (body or mind) since man stand up
my hands are full of love my arms are full of joys to share, my heart want only peace but my eyes are so full of tears that I can't see clearly anymore...
and more and more often, now, I'm scared
A poem to shatter the weight of indifference and blindness...
//the days of friends calling for their friends...the days for you to hide with me//
ReplyDeleteThis writing makes me think of wickedness going on in a place.. a city or a town.. and all the people who live there are in upheaval and distress... my thinking right now is in a movie mode...the thought is panning down over the town.. focusing on bits of horror here; scraps of saddness there...then the view settles on a pair of people.. maybe youngsters.. who've slipped away together (hand in hand, I think).. and find shelter and comfort in each others presence for a time...//all this land around your smile//