poem for fins, family, and friends
pearlmutt
Posts: 392
Kwa mama zetu waliotusaa
by Sonia Sanchez
death is a five o'clock door forever changing time.
and it was morning without sun or shadow;
a morning already afternoon. sky. cloudy with incense. . . .
the day is singing
the day is singing
he is singing in the moutains
the nite is singing
the nite is singing
she is singing in the earth
i am circling new boundaries
i have been trailing the ornamental
songs of death (life
a strong pine tree
dancing in the wind
i inhale the ancient black breath
cry for every dying (living
creature
come. let us ascend from the
middle of our breath
sacred rhythms
inhaling peace.
by Sonia Sanchez
death is a five o'clock door forever changing time.
and it was morning without sun or shadow;
a morning already afternoon. sky. cloudy with incense. . . .
the day is singing
the day is singing
he is singing in the moutains
the nite is singing
the nite is singing
she is singing in the earth
i am circling new boundaries
i have been trailing the ornamental
songs of death (life
a strong pine tree
dancing in the wind
i inhale the ancient black breath
cry for every dying (living
creature
come. let us ascend from the
middle of our breath
sacred rhythms
inhaling peace.
Post edited by Unknown User on
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Comments
My heart and soul goes out to finns and jester and those in London.
Sincerely,
allison Vigh
Hopefully we'll do all we can...each individual one of us.
A whisper and a chill
adv2005
"Why do I bother?"
The 11th Commandment.
"Whatever"
PETITION TO STOP THE BAN OF SMOKING IN BARS IN THE UNITED STATES....Anyone?
by Kwyjibo
for Finsbury
I walked down to liqour store
on that eerie, famous day.
The sun and clouds alligned for me,
in a strangely cryptic way.
I thought about the teacher
seeing fire and bodies in the street.
I thought about the families.
God, I know what it's like to greave.
We picture them as subhuman--
scowling monsters from the deep.
Sneering as the wires cross,
a thousand angels weep.
But they are frightened creatures,
just like you and me.
Let God deal with their actions,
there has been enough killing to be free.
I pray for all my brothers,
who are waiting for their answers,
trapped in silence. And I pray
I pray they all are safe.
I write down good reasons to freeze to death in my spiral ring notebook. But in the long tresses of your hair--I am a babbling brook.
I believe this incident will prove that life must go on and I am hoping that it will serve as a reiminder to those who live in shadows that the Londoners are a tougher lot than they might have ever imagined.
A mid morning Hello and How ya doin' to Richard and his countrymen!!
Jess in Shawnee, KS
As she slams the door in his drunken face
And now he stands outside
And all the neighbours start to gossip and drool
He cries oh, girl you must be mad,
What happened to the sweet love you and me had?
Against the door he leans and starts a scene,
And his tears fall and burn the garden green
But there are plenty of Irish in London too, ISN. Plus, many Cambridge people commute to and from London everyday.