A Day After…

Who understands

Waging war on whims,

Westerly winds blowing offense

Across the tides;

Easterly winds decide which child cries

And which child dies?

Death by incendiary suicide.

Not I.

A day after…

And many years more,

The towers that fell

Stand not of stone,

But something insubstantial

And stronger still.

Is there meaning in that light?

Yes; I’d like to pray,

Perhaps, a peace of mind.

It rests there,

Along with whims and sins,

All those thoughts

Attributed to religions.

A vision of divinity,

Beheld by a multitude of eyes

Among the masses,

Fractured along humanity

(Because, surely, there is no God

Among rivers and dogs).

Sacrilegious, selfish, scared,

Splintered thoughts…

Who commands them?

Who understands insanity…

The day after?

–C. Green




She cries at night,

But do tears really matter

When they’re done by day?

There’s nothing to dry

But sobs inside–

A thousand fears allay.

The horrors that are,

They plague the hours.

What could have been,

Punishes and persists,

Echos and insists

The sacrifice of sleep.

An anxious mind–

Never silent–hides/thrives

In the dark, the morbid,

The cryptic release

Of solitary poetry.

There, disasters thwarted.

–C. Green

*Queen, 1991… I was eleven and learned of HIV–among many things that year–and just as I was discovering his music, Freddie Mercury died… why am I listening to Queen the day before school starts? Because music persists, lyrics capture moments, and I’m beginning a new year teaching music to children…*