Sunday, March 14, 2010

Sonnet XIV


O France! That distant does my lone heart raid –
How far from home my thoughts have been this hour.
A gold Proven├žal sunset bluing, fade
The tawny southern fields of sun and flower.
I long to walk on grassy Norman heights
Along the ashen lengths of wind-swept sand
Climb high in silent towers of Michael’s might
And raise my heart in domes of king’s command.
Yet here the southern fields break my heart
And there the northern hills bring near
My darkest hurt.  I yearn to rise and part
This godless town to find him there --
My God whom I may never know at home
Without whom here I'll always be alone.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

I Am

I am white
White as the driven snow
White as the Whale
White as your brother’s face
that time he drank the H2O2

We laughed

I am American
American as apple pie
American as Eliot
American as your brother blown
bit to bit screaming for his god

We cried

I am a student
Studious as privilege
Studious as Caulfield
Studious as those college boys
being peaceful patriots

We thought

I am human
Human as reason
Human as the Christ
Human as Prometheus bound
bowels bread for birds

We died. 

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Apathy

Turgid brine, crashing itself against the shore,
A million drops sprayed to the skies, like
Angry words sputtered from feverish lips. Gulls
Scream, the rumble of distant thunder
Sending shivers through every living thing.
Even lonely rocks cower from the black, shaken by the break
Of crooked seas heaving endlessly,
Black breaker, white crest, at war with earth and sky.
A man, among the rocks
Standing, feels their trembling, tastes blood and salt.

Life, they say, is full and passionate, and free,
But here the taste of blood on bitten lip
Only tightens the crushing emptiness within.
He sees all, is all, bright blue eyes now
Black and dull with ache.

Yet all is silence -- violence deafened by a vacuum
Frustration.