Daily Archives: January 28, 2015

Grey Tones by Grant Tarbard

I am not a silent poet

(I)

Distance is in my
Eye, the viewing not
Restricted to make
Believe borders drawn
Out in the design.

(II)

Wagnerian grand
Sweeps. Grey tones, garnet
Relished in flesh, in
The blood pools of a
Sorrowful moonscape.

Grant Tarbard is the editor of The Screech Owl and co-founder of Resurgant Press. His first collection Yellow Wolf is out now from WK Press.

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Rape and the Soft Underbelly by Grant Tarbard

I am not a silent poet

It’s the fear that kills,
The violin squeal
At the apex nape
In cloven shape shifts
Of the madonna

And the virgin birth.
The girl was young, the
Swines rooted out like
A daisy. Who was
It on the far side

Of dawn who chased word
Shadows on the brine
Beneath big blue tears
As you fight to breathe.
Sad that their meal is

Dying, waiting for
The punch in the flab,
Soft underbelly
Of Italian bread
And Swastika light.

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The List of Millions But One by Rangzeb Rango Hussain

I am not a silent poet

You, yes you…

You think you know?

Tell me, what do you know?

You can give me facts and figures,
Lists of numbers and statistics,
You speak in a dry dead monotone,
You know this but you don’t feel it.

But know you this…

Every number,
Yes, every number,
Every dot on that page,
They were people.

People who looked different,
Dressed different,
Danced different,
Sang different.

They had the same pearly passions,
The same daily dreams,
The same jolly joys,
The same high hopes.

Into cattle trucks wet with abattoir stink,
Into barbed wire tattooed around veins,
Into cells shrill with apocalyptic hymns,
Into Death’s breathing gas.

Remember them,
Their tales were ours,
There is blood on the wires of history,
Look to it and fear it…

Humanity?
We preach it
but we fail to live it
or wake up and embrace it.

a lesson of love

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