Mediterranean (Remove filter)
The Song Of The Wandering
The Song Of The Wandering
In darkness deeper than the mine
where, once, I scraped my fingers to the bone
a silver seam of moonlight
breaks across the boiling blackness
and I let those self same fingers
idly trail in the cold Mediterranean.
I dream of the golden sunlight
left behind in the dust, distress and bullets.
That was then and this is now.
The churning sea, the angry orders
s...
Wednesday 13th May 2015 6:47 pm
every night, the same dream
the stink of diesel and of fear which
everyone’s pretending is not here
because if they do not name it, it will not be real
but in the hot bodies of the strangers pressed
around her she can feel
the tension of a panic only held at bay
like sea-sickness, with iron will, good fortune,
muttered prayers
inshallahinjesusnameinshallahinjesusname
they rise and fall, jaws clench and clench again
...
Monday 20th April 2015 7:10 pm
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