How Shall I Tell You?
by Carmen Tafolla
after listening to the world news, the U.S. attack,
on Libya, the Soviet accident at Chernobyl, the
firing in the Persian gulf, and wondering... if...
When no soul walks the softened green
and no foot beats the pulse on crumbling brown
and no one lives to sing to rain
or soak to sun the spirit of its golden gown
to weave the many colors of the after-arch
from sky to human skin to wooded wealth
in fiber fabric beads and tusks and seeds
all leading up in rows of beauty drumbeat to black
neck, like venison in stealth
When no one lulls the child to sleep
or takes the wrinkled story's hand
or listens to the news - a wired sound
of tribe on tribe - stet now - man on man
how shall I tell you that I love you then?
how shall I touch your fingers tip to tip
and say that we were blood and human voice and friend?
Statue of
Statue of
Teeming hordes of hungry
Always wanting just a
Time of rest not waiting
Under suffocated souls
Even scared to breathe too loud
Or ask
Freedom from the
MIGRA who will hunt them down
***
7 comments:
Happy Christmas and a merry New Year!
BBC
"...from sky to human skin to wooded wealth
in fiber fabric beads and tusks and seeds
all leading up in rows of beauty drumbeat to black
neck, like venison in stealth...."
Damn, but I envy those lines.
The woman cane write some poetry. How did I miss her so long? Without friends with good taste, I'd be a dunce.
When will I learn to proofread comments. That should be "the woman can write... Not the woman cane...
This is why I like to avoid other poets because then I feel all inferior.
Me too Randal. Still, I think reading other poets might make me a better poet. I can dream, can't I?
I'm with you Aphrodite: Tafolla is an accomplished poet. In "Statue Of," I love her terse political satire.
Utah, you probably missed her because she rarely got publicity. She sort of stayed in the academic world.
I agree with Utah, Randal. When we read other poets, we become better poets. Randal, your blog has such a wonderful, highly literate quality. I need to visit you more often, if you don't mind.
And as for you, Utah: you already know how much I love your writing. Both of you are so talented. I've always loved this passage:
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be
greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Comparisons? I try to avoid them: each of us has a unique voice that no one can replicate.
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