How to write a cry?
How to write a scream
a sob
the grief that seeps
like green oil from
my pressed heart?
How to write a prayer
a plea
a spell of protection?
How to write an open hand,
shelter and signal
to stay the fist
the gas
the grenade
the gun?
The battering ram
the speeding tenebrous truck
the wall of riot shields
the helmets and the masks
the masks and the money
and the money
and the men
the men
the men
the men
men’s voices
men’s chests
men’s curses and brutality and frailty
armored
taut
loaded
cocked.
Every swing not taken is a promise,
a penny saved for tomorrow’s savage bacchanal —
wanton
heedless
mindless
inexplicable
indefensible
nonsensical
haven’t you learned?
haven’t you learned?
haven’t you learned by now, people of the earth?
haven’t you learned your lesson by now, child of God?
This earth is not for you.
–
How to say her name, here,
softly enough to be heard
below the rattle of the saber,
below the restless flap and squawk of
misplaced
chickens, coming home to roost?
(even a broken man is right twice a day)
–
How to say Renee Good in Persian?
How to say Renee Nicole Good in Persian, three thousand times?
Now how to say it twenty thousand more?
–
How to say Gaza in Greenlandic?
How to say Kyiv in Arabic?
How to say freedom, sovereignty, the meek shall inherit the earth, blessed are the peacemakers, ‘war is peace’ where have I heard that one before, leave us the fuck alone, let us live, let us breathe, we can’t breathe, in every tongue?
In German, the word for vote is the word for voice.
–
How to say Minneapolis
All I want to say is
Minneapolis
All I say is Minneapolis
I write, Minneapolis
12 responses to “Hosanna”
Beautiful words as usual!
I hope this reaches you well and warm
XXOO Chip
Thank you, dear Chip! Love and warmth to you, my friend.
Thank you. And it is not just us.
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How to say Gaza in Greenlandic?
How to say Kyiv in Arabic?
How to say freedom, sovereignty, the meek shall inherit the earth, blessed are the peacemakers, ‘war is peace’ where have I heard that one before, leave us the fuck alone, let us live, let us breathe, we can’t breathe, in every tongue?
In German, the word for vote is the word for voice.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Peter
It is not. There’s both comfort and agony in that.
I know you’re ministering and witnessing and speaking justice, Peter, like you always do – thank you and blessings!
Love you, miss you!
Love you and miss you! I heard you exhibited some heroism recently–thank you! Can’t say I’m surprised, though. Love to the boys and your parents and Mer!
Emilia you are a poet. Thank you for sharing these beautiful and terrible thoughts, emotions, words.
Sandra
Thank you, Sandra. Sending you and your family such love.
Beautiful, Emilia!! Thank you, love, Sam
Thank you, dear Sam! Hope you’re keeping warm and keeping the faith this cold winter.
Emilia, I have read and re-read your poem over and over. If you don’t mind I would like to read it tomorrow at our interactive service. It is so powerful that your hurt and pain is palpable. Much like so many of us are feeling. It’s like an anchor that burns.
Then came Saturday and the murder of Alex Pretti. His murder cut me to my soul. A fellow RN. Loved by his friends, family, neighbors and co-workers. A veteran who cared for and honored veterans at the Minneapolis Veterans Hospital. A place I worked at and where my father passed. It’s at least fitting to his character that the last thing he did on this earth was to help a woman being assaulted by ICE. His final words, “Are you alright”? I’m sure you’ve heard the details. My anger slammed into my reality. I am no longer the warrior I once was. I’m too old to make the grade. I’m no longer fast enough or strong enough. I must leave that to younger people. I spent hours in prayer the last few days and feel I can accept the new reality. I still can do less physical things to help those in need, or who are scared, or too afraid to go to the grocery store, or the hospital/clinic, or the church. God will guide me and everyone, if we just listen. May the Lord’s peace be with you now and always. Randy
Oh, my friend. You are most welcome to share the poem–it would be an honor.
I can also hear your hurt, and I am so sorry for it. It has been such a brutal time. I have been, in every way but bodily, in Minneapolis the last few weeks, aching and grieving and raging and caring along with you all. I know that, as ever, God has need of your unique gifts and witness in this moment, and I know that you will offer them with your full, dear heart. I, too, have been praying a lot lately. It feels like all that I can do. I’ll meet you in prayer.
Randy, thank you for your gifts — for your compassion, your faithfulness, your integrity, and the wisdom and knowledge that your many years of care have earned you. May you feel the protective and supportive hands of God around you and around those you care about in this time. And thank you for being my friend.