consuelacooks

cooking, poetry, and unapologetic intense moments in a life

Month: November, 2015

They said they were all strewn

Lengthwise on the dirty floor

in that music hall.

Those who played dead on their corpse friends

got out alive.

 

They said there was shattered glass

and blood

on the ground

in Beirut

 

They said the massacre lasted

hours in Kenya

at the college.

 

I looked at my notifications

before I knew

and Fannette had checked in safe

Pablo had checked in safe

(I had no idea what that meant)

not knowing any better

I went to the news.

 

I tried to understand,

but really-

there is no poetry here.

There is only the sound of

silent fear

and the bitter taste

when bile overcomes all else.

When we know it won’t stop.

It won’t stop soon.

And we hold each other closer.

We walk more quickly.

We fall into love faster.

We pray for light.

We keep breathing.

We just stay alive.

Advertisements

Last Light

Two

One night there was
Fire in the sky.
Blue, red, indigo.

Simply stated,
It was some God’s face
Some other time, illustrated.
Some other hand touching my eye with
Colors of heat, simple treasure.

You were there
Scarf, sweater, skin.
speaking of change
Longing for sweat, breath, and bone.

It’s almost as if
At any moment
I could see the trajectory
Of the blood in your veins
Bursting through years lost
In malady, fever.

And some other where
Some time long gone
Older than light
More ancient than sorrow
-It was in that time I saw you
As I surveyed your lovely eyes
Perfect,
In the last light of the day.

%d bloggers like this: