It's a bomb
he said
He knew
I wanted to shake
it
him
A bomb
No way
it could
blow
up
if I gave it just
one
little
shake
But what if...
it was
true
what if...
that round
object
wrapped
in shiny paper
bow affixed
scotch
tape
stuck
underneath
a tree
all dressed up
for Christmas
really
did
blow
us
up?
What if...
He was your brother
I was your sister
You were
my family
Could you
blow me
up?
What if
we
were
all of us connected
one big family
celebrating
hope
love
joy
peace
on earth
no matter where we stood
on this big
round
ball
spinning through space
could we
find
eachother
in
peace
no wars
no guns
no murderous
intentions
to blow
anything
up
like a red
rubber ball
bouncing
between us
filled
with hope
connecting us
through love
touching us
with joy
converting us
in peace
He was my brother
It was a red rubber ball
long lost on the road
from childhood
where one eyed-teddy bears
with sawdust hearts
and ghosts of Christmas' past
cry out
in hope
for us
to find
love
joy
and peace.
He was my brother
and he is gone
but his spirit lives on
haunting me
with its call
to find
the way
to make love
not war
in a world of
hope
love
joy
and peace
for all
humankind.
David K. Wheeler over at Dave Writes Right posted a wonderful challenge (and giveaway) for Random Act of Poetry at The High Calling -- to write a poem in honour of the tradition of telling ghost stories on Christmas Eve -- a la Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol.
I read about Dave's challenge at L.L. Barkat's Seedlings in Stone where she has posted a beautiful and haunting poem, The Promise.
I invite you to link in -- to try your hand at writing a poem or two or simply read the offerings of others. Who knows, you could win a copy of Dave's new book of poetry: Contingency Plans: Poems. To read more about David and his book, visit Glynn Young at Faith. Fiction. Friends as well as read his review and interview with the poet at High Calling Blogs last week.
9 comments:
Great offering for the RAP, Louise.
"It was a red rubber ball"
I liked the compactness of that image. So much unsaid that's said through the color, the texture, the shape and trajectory of a red rubber ball.
This left me wondering many things ...
Yes, what Susan said.
unbeatable...
you write with care and love,
thought provoking contribution...
way to go.
Happy Sunday!
don't forget to link some of your poems to potluck tonight,
Happy Sunday!
"long lost on the road / from childhood / where one eyed-teddy bears / with sawdust hearts" makes me think of a sort of Island of Misfit Toys. What a call to peace and goodwill. Thanks for linking.
So intriguing. A mischievious brother who said it was a bomb, now only his spirit is present. Is this non-fiction?
I like the flow of your poem. So many elements all wrapped in one.
Thanks everyone for your comments -- and yes, it is nonfiction -- my brother was killed in a car accident 13 years ago -- and yes, when we were little he told me the round package under the tree was a bomb -- and I believed him!
You capture the spirit of siblings so well; so much here. Reminds me of stories told about my mom and her brother, my uncle, who passed away this past summer.
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