Verse

Human thing 

This human thing,

it cuts:

it heals, it hurts:

it is the thing that man’s god hates the most.

This human thing

is a thing of shame and miles and miles of sunshine.

This human thing,

is a thing that sang,

made breakfast,

watched Netflix

and at pictures of beautiful flats;

played Pokemon Go,

shopped for Christmas,

wept,

broke

apart,

loved and

hoped

while cities of ants burnt

with their secret mines of gold.

Then everything

fell slowly

and bewilderingly apart

till humans things were dug open to find

a sun

that burns children, women and men

shooting air bombs.

 

The prophets are late,

or someone,

somewhere

lied.

         

Sunlight catches traces of smoke from fighting in Aleppo’s ancient souq by Tom Westcott

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Verse

Apothéose

I’ve seen it

exactly how you’ve seen it

streaking between thunder

– mighty tall and pitless.

I’ve felt it in shards of pain

while tumbling down stars and space.

I’ve felt it shimmering magic at the edges of hair

standing on ends.

I’ve seen it melt the world into jewels –

precious, wet with love and faith.

Hold,

don’t name it – it’s from the wilderness

don’t clothe it in skin, in sex,

in merciless seconds across the face;

don’t  hide your little ugly things in it.

Just, sit small

with the soundless dots taking up your whole,

and between them

it will wander in slow.

Image by Dallas Sells

Image by Dallas Sells

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