a red pen stalks us.
we write, wearing camouflage.
i hope words can still find us.
shrapnel rescues a poem,
where we tear words out
of our bones
and flesh.
echoes of bullets
speak.
voices pang
to purple.
critics huddle
to burn our words
(burn our worlds.)
surrounding us with torches:
Think with your heart.
No, think with your head.
Don’t think at all.
You can think, when you’re dead.
hurry, poets, hurry.
collect your own
voices--
run, run
sacred
to shadow
and gather
your wings
within the dusk
before they fall
into breaking
fire
shape your vision
ready your defenses;
verse is rebellion.
we write, wearing camouflage.
i hope words can still find us.
shrapnel rescues a poem,
where we tear words out
of our bones
and flesh.
echoes of bullets
speak.
voices pang
to purple.
critics huddle
to burn our words
(burn our worlds.)
surrounding us with torches:
Think with your heart.
No, think with your head.
Don’t think at all.
You can think, when you’re dead.
hurry, poets, hurry.
collect your own
voices--
run, run
sacred
to shadow
and gather
your wings
within the dusk
before they fall
into breaking
fire
shape your vision
ready your defenses;
verse is rebellion.
Alicia Mathias is a writer, artist, and photographer. Her poems and/or artwork, can be seen in: Ann Arbor Review, The Bitter Oleander, bradlaughsfinger, The Canopy Review, Chiron Review, Clockwise Cat, Fearless, January Review Journal, SetU Magazine, Newington Blue Press, Porter Gulch Review, The Rye Whiskey Review, Sore Dove Press, Unlikely Stories Mark V, and elsewhere. She lives in New York, with her favorite muse, Zeppelin the Wonder Cat.
brilliant; very well done!
ReplyDelete!!!!!!!!
ReplyDelete"verse is rebellion."
ReplyDelete"A red pen stalks us.
ReplyDeleteWe write, wearing camouflage.
I hope words can still find us"
I love this!