"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

If the sky could hear us

Day Eight: Rewriting another poem - If the ocean had a mouth, by Marie-Elizabeth Mali.

Would it listen, our screams
all hellfire and roaring,
our thoughts scattered
to the wind?

It would stay still, patient,
blink its eyes full of stars.
No one hears as much.

Would the sky ignore us,
leave us to our impunity?

Would it shroud itself
in the fog of a humid morning,
or would it come forth,
shining it's proudest blue
and ultraviolet torridity
to prove attentiveness?

What could we really say
to capture its recognition
when there is an entire planet
to give heed to?

All this fullness
of thought. Wide-eyed
lovers. Broken minds.

Within its clouds the frozen raindrops,
the potential of creation, shards of life,
anathema to those who cry out.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Step Brothers, More Wins

No comments:

Post a Comment