Month: May 2017

by

Blessed

Is there space left

to push in my page–

to share my thoughts

on such an overcrowded stage?

Is there room

in our text-attacking lives

to find my voice?

Is there any surprise

left?  Any story

that hasn’t been already said?

I could read all my life

and still be over-fed.

There isn’t room for it all.

I block out just to breathe;

and my generation wonders

is there any need

for me?

More music available

than I will ever hear.

More knowledge than I

could ever care to seek.

More roads than I could

hope to take or meet.

More food than I

could ever safely eat.

I’m

SNOWED UNDER

by all that is sweet.

DSH

5/2017

by

Ficstory

I am overcome

and my heart bleeds

with the violence of fiction and history.

Must this be art?

Intrigue and sorrow,

traitorous tales

of harm by the same hands

that should have protected.

Grief, that is harshly too real

as I look into their lives

of darkness and spoil–

hungers soothed in famishing ways–

true lives of dramatic loss

and loneliness

so hollow that many

fell into their own abyss–

taking others with them.

And I, alone,

am left to mourn.

Can we celebrate prose

at so great a cost?

DSH

5/2017