Poetry / Crisis
I take a cracker and I crumble it in my hand
Tiny pieces fall, then violently land,
I view in on a woman with painful disgrace
Standing over what was her husband, now just an empty case,
Her heart mourns for her lover the loss of her friend
Now just a lonely survivor along with the others that suspend,
Hanging they suspend with their hunger on a rope
Doing everything possible to not lose that one thing called hope,
I narrow in on a man trying to understand
Tried to do everything to not let go of his wife’s lovely hand,
Swept away by the furious waves of this storm
She risked her life for this man and this child that was born,
Thousands of faces roam these beaten streets
Looking, searching, moving with their feet,
So many questions of what am I to do
When my life has been taken and broken into,
There is no future when there is nothing left
No city, no spirits, just a thief with hearts she theft,
Today what we have is the sun upon our face
Disparity that races through out this place,
Smiles have been ripped away into the water below
Floating with all the other smiles that ride with this flow,
Tiny little sails that float out to sea
Passing between the rubble and scattered debris,
They all congregate in a parking lot
With what they own on their backs standing on this asphalt,
No human should have to suffer like this
Living on top of the world and in a minute – this crisis,
Most thank the Lord above for this life He spared
And all they ask is for the mercy of prayer,
This child flashes upon this screen
Tears in his eyes drenching his shirt of green,
Clinging unto his mother’s chest
It’s the heart where one can peacefully rest,
My heart pulled from both sides
So hard that tears form in my own eyes,
I feel my body hit the floor
There is so much we can do, so much more,
And what do I do … but stand behind this glass fixture
Watching these images that float in place creating this colorful mixture,
Just a spectator like all the other millions that see
And in the end…the brave ones are those other than those like me,
Because sometimes, words are not just enough, they will not do
It’s the actions of this pain; that turn simple words into deepening truth…
Amanda
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It didn’t take me long to have images of Hurricane Katrina and the destruction in Lousiana as I read this. It definitely tugged at my heart strings. Great read.
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“No city, no spirits, just a thief with hearts she theft,”
‘Theft’ is a noun, not the past tense of ‘to thieve,’ which is ‘thieved.’
‘Do’ and ‘truth’ don’t rhyme. For a poem that loses so much to its rhymed couplets, it seems strange to me that you’d end with a non-rhyme (technically a slant rhyme, but you were using strict masculine rhymes throughout the poem).
I could understand what you were saying in the poem, which is a plus. However, I noticed there were lines that had too many or too few syllables, which created inconsistencies in the rhythm of the poem. They were made this way presumably to maintain the rhyme scheme, which I personally think was overdone. The message of the poem could have been presented much more smoothly and sympathetically if it were done with a looser rhyme scheme that allowed for a more relaxed rhythm.
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