Friday, April 18, 2014

We Gathered Our Horrors

We gathered our horrors
and fed them to the fire.
Our skins became smoke; our arrows ashes.
Skies spilled from our open hands,
and moons rolled ripe at our feet.
Our teeth dulled down and rooted deep
into the common skull.
Finally, our bellies were full.
Peace grows wild
in fields of forgetting.

Some thoughts on peace (working on that!) for Marian's prompt at Real Toads

26 comments:

ccchampagne said...

Very dark, but I can see how you got there from the prompt and I very much like it!

Marian said...

whoa, yes. yes! i have some stuff better forgotten that needs to find that fire. love this, MZ.

Sylvia K said...

Oh, yes! Dark, but great!

Kerry O'Connor said...

I wonder how easy it is for people to forget the sins perpetrated against their ancestors. True forgiveness is a humbling thing.

Kathryn said...

This is fantastic, love it.

Gail said...

Great. Filled with darkness and hope.

Margaret said...

Just powerful… glad I didn't read this before my paltry attempt…

Susie Clevenger said...

My, the power in this. "Peace grows wild in fields of forgetting" Humbled by your words.

aspiritofsimplicity said...

peace grows wild...I really like that line

Grandmother (Mary) said...

Oh, MZ, this is so good. I love the image of our teeth rooted deep in the common skull.

Fireblossom said...

I agree with Mary, I like that line about the teeth rooted deep in the common skull, too.

Kay L. Davies said...

I love the last two lines.
K

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Outstanding. I most love "peace grows wild in fields of forgetting".

kaykuala said...

Must one forget all the injustices meted out before? Yes, just move on and participate in what the future holds! Nicely MZ!

Hank

Hannah said...

I love the raw quality that your poetry often holds, Mama Zen...your closing thought is SO true...sometimes that's the only way to peace.

Ella said...

I love the tight lines and the depth of your voice- Your poem reminds me of some people I know. They forget the scars they left behind~ I too love your raw edges of your voice.

manicddaily said...

I think peace probably grows wild in fields of forgetting in that it becomes wild-- and I'm not sure peace is a wild thing--super interesting poem, MZ. You are very good at sharp and multi-layered distillation. k.

manicddaily said...

I didn't mean to sound critical--I do not know what I think on this issue. It is certainly a very powerful poem, written with great authority.. k.

Other Mary said...

Darkly delish. There is a lot to this one.

On another note, I know you are hosting the next 55, but have no when. Will you mention it at IGRT? Can you please let me know either on my blog or email me at marybach@aol.com. Thank you.

Brian Miller said...

whew. grisly.
i wonder if we ever made the decision for peace what that would do to us...

Sumana Roy said...

beautiful

Susan said...

I am awed to silence, wandering after the wild peace ...

Lorraine Renaud said...

wow I wish, I'll be 55 on April 21 and I remember every day of my life, recalled on command... the positive is that I can never lie to myself

Claudia said...

i love the image of moons rolling ripe at your feet... and that last line sums it up well... sometimes the peace of my youth didn't turn out so peaceful in the end...oy

hedgewitch said...

This poem seems to say for me between the lines that for some, anyway, there may be less peace and even less forgetting, but at least bellies are full--it can be a high price, though.

grapeling said...

Wow ~