Maribeth’s World
Maribeths hub for thoughts, people, places, interests and other things…Archive for May, 2009
Memorial Day Week– A Rememberance
Memorial Day Weekend is a time to remember and express gratitude for the individuals who have served, gained and protect our American Freedoms. Many people use the weekend as a time for family, projects, shopping, rest, travel, decoration of graves, and the start of summer activities. We will do a little of that here, but we will also take part in official Memorial activities in our community. We have a small community parade that culminates at Ridge Park for prayers and a ceremony with Taps. I have always enjoyed the PBS National Memorial Day Concerts and found they also have a great website. Some other memorial day links are:
TAPs
Day is done, gone the sun,
From the hills, from the lake,
From the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.
Go to sleep, peaceful sleep,
May the soldier or sailor,
God keep.
On the land or the deep,
Safe in sleep.
Love, good night, Must thou go,
When the day, And the night
Need thee so?
All is well. Speedeth all
To their rest.
Fades the light; And afar
Goeth day, And the stars
Shineth bright,
Fare thee well; Day has gone,
Night is on.
Thanks and praise, For our days,
‘Neath the sun, Neath the stars,
‘Neath the sky,
As we go, This we know,
God is nigh.
Wind Blizzard
Wind Blizzard
damaged augury
ravished land,
words strewn about
in hundred mile an hour oratory gusts
the gods’ foreplay scatters
poetic debris
split barks of howling rhyme
branches of semantics copulating
with the wind
leave distasteful creations like
dead electrical wires, tossed
green houses, unroofed salad of pestilent images
blown out rooms with disengaged decor
blocked synapses, a weary road
impassable
splintered disposition struck down in all its glory
by vicious innuendo, pummeling
rotting corpses of brain refuse, wide eyed
readers surviving only to inhale
the stench of vaporous vowels
in alliterative decompose
blacked out power, feeling for unwritten stanzas
in candlelight vigil
muses circle like buzzards with manacled
talons
float aimlessly above an abridged wasteland
of vocabularic treason—
letters lie disarranged—arrested
congested voices echo in chaotic ink of madness
Oh touch me,
i’ll hear you in the ironic silence
i’ll feel your mouth open
in bombastic prayer—
just before the new sky breaks
with the sound of limp tongues cracking
as the lever is pulled to still the song—
restoration’s wing will etch itself
into a one mind at a time posture
of stopped clocks
hand bones tossed into broken tea cups
the leaves’ reading suspended
a consequence of fingers
too twisted to write
the event wisely—
By erin-cilberto
5/14/o9
