prepress conference notes…

copyright 2013 cwmartin

no time
to bury
the bodies
war
often
precludes
moral rites
anyway
desert sands
will soon
reclaim
what is
rightfully
owned
by god
and
perhaps
the winds
will carry
their last breaths
to those
they loved
leaving
infinite kisses
upon their lips
or
curses
to the ears
of elected madmen
the madmen
who sent them here
madmen
hidden behind
corporate doors
busily writing
treaties
for
eternal enemies
a marriage of convenience
during these
hard economic times
treaties written
with words
like
wedding vows
vows written
on rice paper
consummated
with ready cash
and
assured with
a chastity belt
of
armored tanks

the robber is at the door…

we have locked
the doors
and
windows
pulled down
the shades
and
dimmed the lights
the madmen of yore
have returned
and
move freely
in the darkness of fear
calling out like peddlers
selling century old scapegoats
door-to-door
they promise to give back
what you never had
but always desired
if you would only
but sacrifice
the lives
and
freedoms of others
a small price
to pay
until
judgment day

from my window…

from my window
i see a world
you do not see
i see madmen
in the street
selling candy-coated nightmares
on corporate auction blocks
for the mere price of your soul
and hear the sounds
streaming from city streets
that go unheard
when children cry
in the night
with parental fright
praying for morning’s light
to embrace the sight
of an unlocked door
into a world most fear
you did not hear
the shallow breaths of fear
throughout the night
reverberating
like waves of tears
an unwanted
endowment
nor did you feel
the touch of love
that a poet knows
sometimes in dreams
sometimes savored
on passion’s bed
in a candle lit room
a love
you
have always
sought
and
have not
found

 

My friend Toni Cross has presented another challenge photograph for me, but his one is very special since it is a photograph of her…how does one poet begin to capture even a fragment of another poet’s spirit within the lines of a poem?  Not sure that I have an answer…but here is my attempt to convey a some small portion of the spirit that I have seen in her writing.  I hope that she will approve of what I have attempted.