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Showing posts from May, 2010

We Have A Beautiful Mother

Image
by Alice Walker

We have a beautiful Mother Her hills Are buffaloes Her buffaloes Hills. We have a beautiful Mother Her oceans Are wombs Her wombs Oceans. We have a beautiful Mother Her teeth The white stones At the edge Of the water The summer Grasses Her plentiful Hair. We have a beautiful Mother Her green lap Immense Her brown embrace Eternal Her blue body Everything we know.

Harvest of Thorns

by Scott O'Brien
Whom are they arresting?
Today, for the bomb in Times Square,
the one that did not go off,
except in people’s hearts
and exploded faith - after calling us back
from the borders of daily care
to stand and watch in horror.
Whom did they arrest?
Not the insatiable hatred, not
this misplaced
passion, obsessed with righting
wrongs at the expense of all
that is
right.
Not the shadow of revenge,
which knows no solace,
runs from loving
caresses, spits out the cloying taste
of reconciliation.
No, they never arrest the right one:
that shadow fleeing
over there, just now
disappearing down the subway,
rounding that corner, the one who
has never yet been caught
in all these millennia
of wars, murderous martyrs,
and lunacy.
Each springs boxes him in,
every butterfly is a bomber,
fixing him in her sights,
every child’s smile a vicious
attack; only a cemetery feels
like home to him.

Such a strange universe, calling for help,
holding so close to its heart
this harvest of thorns.