To the Russian poets and all poets;the shimmering, undefeated "cloud of witnesses" who conveyed at great cost in their own way: the connecting idea between Heaven and earth. And most of all, to the poet from the former Soviet Union who, dying, in prison, wrote his final poem in his own blood on the wall: the single word, "Hope". Whole-hearted To the Triune God in memory of Mary Adalyn Douglas.
Copyright 2006-2016, U.S. and International Copyright all rights reserved by Mary Angela Douglas
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
They Mined My Poem For Information
they mined my poem for information.
lilting,my poem flew away.
they muted my nation.
the coasts of sorrow look the same
from age to age.
we coloured them in with pink and green
and were kept in corners or
after school; for this? I whispered
who let them rule who let them rule
I murmured into my small hands as though they were a telephone oh
only the breeze escapes bringing hints
of the rose,of the honey-suckled gates I open my Grandmother's piano lid there where my starlight hides