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Faith, Poetry, politics

The following piece is an edited version of my contribution to a collaborative effort called Poets for Peace on the blog ForgottenMeadows. To learn more and to contribute to the fabulous initiative, visit forgottenmeadows.wordpress.com.

When blood
Is a river

Drowning itself
Rage a wave

Self-harming in
Violent crests

You & I forge
Solace in the

Dove’s Oak
Branch alto

The swaying dance of
Resurrected blossoms

Stone parishes chanting
Vespers & intonations.

Together we dwell in &
Out of time

A present exit, so to speak,
From reverberating blasts

On breaking news abroad &
Popping clips & sirens nearby

Our space is  collected
in ourselves

In the union of
Our souls

Where we hold close,
At least for now,

In growing pains of
Our times.

#PoetsforPeace

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Endurance

Life, Poetry

I am a present tense

Even in a body

Not my own.

High Tide

Uncategorized

The maroon crest curling in demolition

Gives voice to the crashing plate/

The roaring of a ruptured rock face.

Its furious burst & simmering decline

May hold the rhymes to a future verse.

But I won’t herald distant times;

Only the wide lapis lazuli plain &

The crest kissing my toes like

Bowing heads of the faithful.