Sunday, February 18, 2018

Not a poem

Don't write a poem
for a hungry child
Don't sing a song
For a landless people

Their agony is not in verses
Their pain is not in rhymes

Don't write that poem
from a table set for steaks
A hungry child will not eat your echos

Don't sing that song
from a mansion of opulence
Landless people won't be sheltered by your high notes

Don't write a poem
Don't sing a song


Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Beware the wings

Beware the wings
Broken, life is an unbearable chalice
Don't marvel
when you see wings broken
They break a soul
They break tomorrow
Into fractures of hopelessness 
Beware the wings
Broken, reduced a King Eagle into a squeaking birdy
And a blissful flight becomes a drag
that drips with sorrow and tears
Some fly away
Some wither with the night