Sunday, August 14, 2016

Arlene Corwin writes



Watching The Signs With Sighs

No journalist, I – 
No Instagramer, Twitterer,
No any out-in-worlder;
Only poet, intellect,
A heart
That tries not to be sentimental,
Hooked upon emotion –
So, and too misleading, to mis-reading,
Impulse and projection
Of our egotistic needs.
Yet,
One cannot
Resist it all:
The evil of it all,
Coming, going, fooling one
Into believing
That a calm will always be.

Last night a ventured coup in Turkey,
Night before, Bastille Day in Nice:
Terror, violence, crushed, the try
At overthrow!
I just don’t know –
I’m speechless, but confess
I must write something, being helpless too. 
To cry and yelp
Is not to help. 

I’m here, on paper writ.
That’s it.




Tree of Fire -- Deborah Nell

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