Linda

POETRY IS WHAT THE SOULS OF THE ANCIENTS SPEAK TO THOSE STILL SEEKING WHAT IS MOST BEAUTIFUL IN THE WORLD. FROM: LINDA

Thursday, April 25, 2024

 

Thank you to Mark Antony Rossi of Ariel Chart for publishing my poems in the April issue.







The Glass Collector


 

Who will now bear the standards,

help cease the cannons roar?

 

John, as part of a valorous chain, 

closely linked to his brothers,

not afraid to look down at crater’s edge.

 

Thunder rushed headlong,

and the sky loomed bright.

Rivers burned

as they struggled to repel

sinister, destructive effects.

They poured their sweat into the oceans

to replenish shrinking seas.

 

Thousands of hands bore arms in supplication,

blessed the dark that protected them,

penetrated the hostility for our sake.

 

He braved all this

believing  there would be

better windows in the new houses,

and robins would build nests in new trees,

as birds of day,

bird of night,

birds of dawn.

 

Their oaths and ordeals 

translated into the greatest generation.

 

John, our hometown hero.

To him centuries of debt owed,

calendars of veneration with purpose due.

 

We can repay him,

in part,

by helping all the glass 

that garrisons a serene world   

not be shattered.
















Lies Made Holy

 

 

The shining ones

live among light beams,

make a splendid connection,

keep faith

inside the confines of rainbows.

Once strengthened

they attest to miracles.

 

They carry the swords of dreams,

and the chasteness of prophecy    

from where they came

through centuries of fight.. 

 

There’s much debate

as to whether or not

the doctrines of

great fellowship 

and goodness 

exists only within church walls.

 

Neither heaven nor earth

will convince you

how many gods

you can fit within any philosophy

if you don’t believe in deities.



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