Persist, Resist: 2019, Facing Evil

I will not cease from Mental Fight

Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand

Till we have built Jerusalem

In England's green & pleasant land.

-----Willian Blake

(To be human in a hurt world is to evolve from being a tear because aware to

being a wound seeking others hurt by terror to becoming ash yet we revive to in peace resist)

Once we were a walking teardrop

Though we shone while we thought.

Then we were a walking wound

Wound wooing other wounds

Wound aiding other wounds

Wound asking other wounds

"Are you truly a wound too?"

Now we are ashes moaning with memory--

Are ashes anything other than moans?

Yet love exists even in ashes

Love may persist even in ashes.

May the Phoenix be formed

Out of our ashes

Whose feathers flash through the air

Like Blakean blades!

      © Stephen Margulies, 2019

"The Garden of Love," by William Blake
from Wikimedia Commons

The Queen of the Damned

Shhh

I’m only going to say this once

While the god of doves

Sleeps behind a rusted-out Buick

While it’s rained from dawn till dusk

I pulled the bow back and settled

The arrow in the heart

Of the queen of the damned

Her minions rolled forward and vanished

Her black eyes closed

She left instructions for burial

In a far west mausoleum which followed

The arc of the setting sun

But I thought it best to leave her

For the dogs of the night

It rained from dawn till dusk

And then a crescent moon held Venus 

At the end Bonnie and Clyde were slaughtered

By Texas Rangers and Louisiana police

Twenty thousand attended

I made my way back to Manhattan

I made my way back to the city called home

I removed my boots and my clothing

And laid in a hot bath till the water turned cold

I stood and dried my bruised body

While the god of doves slept

While the queen of the damned attracted vultures

I put on a blue robe and lit a cigarette

Watching the crowded street

Through my sixty-seventh floor window

The phone rang

I let it

It stopped but then rang again

I got into bed and pulled the covers to my chin

And while the phone rang over and over

Fell asleep

© Phillip Marlin, 2019

Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow
Photo 1932 - 1934
Available through the Library of Congress
from Wikimedia Commons

Noble and Sentimental

Eight-thirty.  It’s dark in the room 

at my daughter’s house. Just across 

a blackened lawn the Quaker church 

glows—eight double windows 

blazing bright.  Twelve people pair 

as partners face-to-face, one hand 

on a shoulder, another at a waist, 

two clasped firm, held up high. 

Six couples move, flow over the floor, 

ONE two-three, ONE two-three, 

gliding out of sight, back in view,

out of sight. No music permeates 

the night, silence separates them 

from me. But dresses whirl, couples 

twirl, shoes barely brush the floor.  

I can hear my last waltz so long

ago—Strauss, maybe Ravel.  Lord, 

let me dance this fleeting life.

© Martha E. Snell, 2019

A couple dancing
Photo by Alvin Mahmudov
Originally posted on Unsplash;
from Wikimedia Commons

To Open All the Doors and Windows I Can Find

WAFTING SUN ON WINDED WATER

MAKES THE RIVER MOLTEN GOLD

LET ME BASK IN THIS MOMENT’S GRACE

ISN’T THIS MY PLACE?

TO OPEN ALL THE DOORS AND WINDOWS I CAN FIND?

TO LISTEN, TO SEE, AND FEEL THE DIVINE?

NINE HUNGRY BUZZARDS CRUISE THE SKY,

WIND CHAFES THROUGH THE RIVER PINE,

I MOVE CLOSER TO THE WATER

NOW I FEEL THE HEAT —

FIRE AND WATER ARE MINGLING, THEY CONSORT,

(I DO NOT COMPETE)

FIRE BURNS BRIGHT

AND MOVES ACROSS THE WATER INTO ME —

WE ARE ONE !

I BASK IN THE MOMENT

© Gerry Sackett, 2019

Sunset over the River Cam
Photo by Andrew Dunn
from Wikimedia Commons
(This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.)

Sanctuary

Stomping divots in this ocean of mud

Is like trying to make the earth flat again

And you laugh and I say some people

Are actually trying and not only that but

They would have us unwind the journeys

Of our ancestors across isthmus bridges

Across oceans on ships so tender that

They could not sail even a broad reach

Across rivers and through tunnels at night

Holding hope that some will not be deported

My barn is big enough for six families

At least, enough feet to stomp all the divots

Enough to carry on the farm when I die

Enough for a complete circle around the fire

So let us go out now into the muddy pasture

And ask the horses for those greater hearts

© Bill Prindle, 2019

Horses in the field
by Peter, from Bern, Switzerland
from Wikimedia Commons

Won’t You Stay

If you please won’t you stay dear lady,

And for you, I will sing this song

Cannot say the words will come easy

They’ve been hiding deep inside for far too long

I was once young and full of promise

But I’m not what I used to be

Too many tears have washed away my footprints

And I cannot find the way back home you see

Look at all the stars beyond my dusty windows wheeling

How beautiful they are as they go drifting on their way

To heaven or to hell, to sunlight or to dark unfeeling

Wish I knew….   Lady, won’t you stay?

© George Phillips, 2019

Van Gogh's Starry Night on the Rhone, 1888
from the Musée d'Orsay

Enigma

My father came 

in the footsteps

of a post-war survivor 

distracted by demons.

He seemed to care

in obscure ways,

difficult to discern

as I much preferred 

tangible hugs.

He did his dutiful best 

to provide for me by hard

work, his insignia for love. 

Since he decoded caring as 

Maintenance, he checked 

the frequency of my bowel 

movements as a baby 

to measure my well-being 

like a mechanic 

dips an oil stick. He once

showed emotion when he

punched trash cans

in the alley after I had

an all-nighter prom, an

unfamiliar tradition 

in the islands. Still shocked

by his departure from military

restraint, I don’t know if he

was angry or relieved

when I came home so late. 

As an adult, I settled for 

the unsolved mystery that 

was my father. Beginning 

with hugs, I cared for 

the old man until his 

last days in the ways 

I had wanted for myself.    

© Patsy Asunción, 2019

Expectant fathers being instructed on diaper changing
U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Anastasia Puscian/Released
from Wikimedia Commons