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Violent Throws of a Sleepless Sorrow
by Alison McKenzieI’ve come home
To a land with no lemons;
Where the soil
Is tainted sand
In hues of plutonium yellow.
The earth beat us
About the population
With the end of a buckle,
The ocean responded
Ad nauseum,
Plowed toward us
The vilest bile
And hollow plunder,
Yanked our loved ones away
Without permission.
What does it mean
To live in a now
That devours the small,
The humble, and the devout
In equal measure to
The fields and
Technology’s best laid plans?
We, born of tolerance, are
Stretched, now,
To a delicate thin
By even humbler needs
For the next breath,
The next meal,
The next ration of
Future generations.
I’ve come home
To a land of rubble,
And this is only the beginning
Of a sorrow
That does not sleep
Or give. 03/22/2011 Author's Note: I know these words don't come close....
Posted on 03/23/2011
Copyright © 2024 Alison McKenzie
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Mary Frances Spencer on 03/23/11 at 05:41 AM Wow! So sharp and poignant...I'm not here that often anymore, but I hear ya sister! MFS |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 03/23/11 at 10:25 AM ...ali, yes dear the words come achingly close...i see the buckle swinging willy nilly. |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 03/26/11 at 10:49 PM Oh, Ali! This is the first poem I have read about the tsunami and its aftermath. The pictures are devastating - I just saw another set of videos sent to me on email. But none of the videos capture the pain and the tragedy as well as your poem. Thanks so much for this. It helps me process the horror. |
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