dis asters

sometimes I wonder why I keep things

things of which I know little
      or fear to know more

like a small crumble of red brick
      I took from a pile of rubble

I know I should have
      left it where it lay

but it already was broken
      and there were so many

just as lives once filled
      long rows of barracks

I saw the museum with pictures
      and all the shoes

and signs in languages
      I didn't understand

why I chose that broken brick
      near children's barrack #23

I do not know

not often, I hold that remnant
      and wonder why I keep it

why do I keep the memory of my escape
      from those memorial grounds that day

to eat a sandwich from my day pack
      seated on a gray boulder on the sunny hillside

overlooking a far-distant river and
      watching a storm pass through the valley

why did I feel so unsafe when I became aware
      my discarded granite boulder

was just one of ten giant jumbled stone block
      letters that once spelled Buchenwald

why do I remember myriads of blue asters
      peering through tangles of rusty barbed wire

behind me
      by the guardhouse watchtower

somehow feeling safe outside the compound fences
      knowing I could go home . . . and would

sometimes I wonder why I
      keep things

that never should have been


                      The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy
                              is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet,
                              alone with the heavens, nature, and God.
                              Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be.
                                                                                                                      -Anne Frank
                                                                                                                       1929-1945

                       
   
   

Untitled Until Later II

Poetry is an oral and written art form. It is meant to be read both in silence and aloud. Today, much of the poetry that is written is free-style. Here, poetry becomes a visual art - the white spaces on the page as important as the words themselves. And such poetry relies on a rhythm and music embedded within its words.

When I sent my poem, "Untitled Until Later" to my dear friend Carol, who is a marvelous poet, she asked if she might suggest some changes. When I received her efforts back, I said WOW! What an illustration of the visual importance of a piece of poetry.

Below are the results of our collaboration.

trees      bewildered     by continuing snow
stark    bare       silhouettes against grey sky
waiting       for the signal to explode in green
when     this prolonged winter      becomes summer
                                            in one day

tiny     white snowdrops
hopeful sentinels      bloom under May snows
buried bulbs     hesitant         to push upward
Arctic melt carries seals          on ice-floes
                           blown far southward

fearful       frightened people
reach for stability         in the absence
of seasonal cycles    a stability      no longer
existing        they are afraid to trust
                              any sudden warmth

inept           brothers bomb innocence
shatter illusions          of safety
a thirsty nation       devours every detail
in a media frenzy          so many questions
                                      elude answers

during grey days       winter-weary people
collectively search         for some assurance
crying out      for anchors        they cannot find
while heavy air            saturated with chaos
                                      hangs over all

trees    frozen symbols      in time and space
everyone        uncertain       of any future 
waiting        for something not named
for    what lies ahead         what is possible
                             beyond imagination

                     still having hope

Now scroll back to my entry on Monday, April 29th. Read this first version out loud. Then come back to this entry and also read it out loud. At first glance, this latter version looks jerky and abrupt with all the spaces within the lines. But surprisingly - there is music embedded here too.