Melany Rochester photo
By
Jane Dougherty
Damn wind
The wind is blowing from the east,
bringing High Steppe light and cold
beneath sun veiled in milky cloud.
Thistledown and elm mast float
on tides that flow the wrong way past
the window where the shutters rattle,
and chained pot plants complain.
The wind is blowing all the wrong way,
and in another turbulent place
flesh and blood rain from rafters, shot
and blown till only screams are left
to float on tides, carrying them east,
the wrong way against the rising sun—
blood soaks the sky’s western hem.
The world turns, but the wrong way, trailing
human caravans like spindrift,
from east and west the winds blow, clashing
ice with searing sun, tossing bombs
and scorching words, while we poke the barbecue
and wonder if we got enough burgers, oh and
incidentally, where did all the swallows go?
Millions rising
There were thousands once
came knocking, knocking,
children in tow and smiling faces.
There were thousands once
came knocking, and we turned them all away.
It’s full in here, we said, grimly snarling,
It’s full in here, so go away.
We are millions here who spend and squander,
worry about football and pulpy lips.
We are millions here who grasp and plunder
and never we wonder whence they came,
the shiny phones and shiny clothes,
the meat we eat or where coffee grows—
it’s full in here, so go away.
Thousands once with smiling faces
came knocking politely, were turned away—
it’s full in here, so go away.
But where will we put the millions who come
crying, knocking, crying, knocking,
desperate faces, children in tow,
when the angry oceans, grim and snarling
have swept their homes,
the soil, the trees,
the cities, barren fields away,
have drowned entire countries, well?
Will we still just pray?
Jane Dougherty
Jane Dougherty is Irish and lives in the middle of a meadow in southwest France. She writes novels, stories and poetry and has been published in journals and magazines including Ogham Stone, Hedgerow, Visual Verse, Eye to the Telescope and Lucent Dreaming. She blogs at https://janedougherty.wordpress.com/
Anger and mourning. Too many thoughts and prayers, not enough action.
Wonderful. I especially like, "The world turns, but the wrong way, trailing. . ."
Fabulous, just glipping, spot on! Oh how I have missed the way you drop simple words to the page then juggle them until they vent all the rage and btoken dreams of perfection.
Well done poems. I love them in this critizising way too, because its the truth. Michael