may we all be heard
words are bells
let them ring!


Thom World Poet Austin, Texas, USA
Global Radical networker and activist for promoting the live Creative Arts,
at every possible opportunity, especially in his home-city, Austin, Texas, USA


Friday, February 10, 2012

MY FATHER's FIRE

Burned he employers,jobs,prospects
Burning the sugar cane for sweet harvests
When fire licked,out came the black snakes of anger
fists of frogs,spite of lizards/every vermin hiding flushed out via heat
He was armed with a cane cutter's knife.He faced the anger and sliced
After hours,he doused his own fire with beer and mates
and laughed at the harvest (soon to be machined
Red fire,blackened cane-an anarchy of controlled violence
Whenever bush fires flame and flare,i remember then and there
where necessary human heat became walls of Holocaust
I saw Berlin burning in black and white.Dresden.Tokyo.London
Flame is used to ignite wars.Pyromaniacs.Fire bombers.Molotov Cocktails
It's unrepentant anarchy used in furnaces for waste /for our bodies to be consumed.
Fire flickers flames inside us,too.Elemental as revenge/violence remains
Nurse mother warmth and father flame.Both heat in different ways
Both will pass away.

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