Tuesday, August 2, 2016

August 2

We're writing after poems all month long.


2 comments:

  1. My faith comes crashing in
    *after Tamara Madison’s poem
    Drop Dead"

    My faith comes crashing in
    Like a hammer raised above me
    Ready to bash my brains in
    At that instant
    My eyes opened as I awoke
    To a stranger with a hammer
    Swinging it down by his side
    And walking away leaving me
    Wondering why?
    My faith comes crashing in
    Like the sound of thunder
    With a clapping cascade of breaking
    glass
    It was the period
    In the depths of living
    homeless
    Outside in a dilapidated garage
    writing feverishly
    When the storm broke above me
    At the moment I was inscribing the word
    Zeus, instead of writing down Zion
    In the instant I mistakenly
    Made the pen move from
    The letter “i to the e”
    The applauding thunder came
    from under the canopy of heaven
    Crashing down upon me
    Faith came crashing in when the story
    Was told of a young girl and two of her friends
    Singing praises and playing guitar
    Crying their eyes out as they worshiped
    Pleasing Him for His Presence
    to fill the room as the ceiling flowed with
    a cloud cover and a hand broke through the mist
    outstretched to invite the innocence from their
    troubled souls
    Faith came crashing in
    Like a lightening bolt
    Coming down out of the skies
    In the instant she provoked me
    to the point of hatred knowing
    I was cornered like a rattlesnake
    Ready to strike
    It was then, the palm tree
    Twenty feet high in the front
    yard was hit by lightening
    Distracting the argument
    Like a divine intervention
    To let the situation become
    Less volatile
    Defused by God Himself
    These are a few examples of how
    Faith comes crashing in
    From attempted murder to the sound
    of thunder and the lightening strike
    Or like the hand breaking through
    The clouds drifting from above
    In a room of singing praise
    You have to have faith
    As it comes crashing in
    All around us

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  2. Louis Beck drops (after tamara madison, “drop dead”).

    Louis is the only person I know who drops dead. And he does it with style. Walking the dog on 5th avenue outside his central park apartment.
    I always liked him. He was my college room mate’s father. He took me and my husband out for fancy dinners. He was generous. He was one of the first people to somehow name me Jewish, even though I clearly wasn’t. I saw my predilection for lox and told the relatives at some brunch what a nice kosher girl I was. So I’m glad he got do die standing in the swankiest section of town, with his dog, and his wife waiting for him upstairs.
    He died young — younger than I am now — I think. But he didn’t do that long slow terrible decay into decrepitude that my parents did. The loss of mobility and the accompanying depression. The weight gain. My father couldn’t fit into any of his Brooks Brothers suits and that’s what killed him — not the broken hip.
    I’m getting fatter too. I’m falling apart. I don’t want to die, especially since I’m questioning the existence of God currently. But at what point would you like to just soar out of your body, like Tamara’s mom does in that poem? Like a balloon. It’s better than not being able to walk or talk.
    When Louis drops dead at 60. I hope that right before he drops he looks up and around and sees the skyline, and the trees of the park. I hope he sees the street lamps and hears the sound of traffic. 5th avenue has a lot of traffic you know, and there’s a bus that runs all night up and down, along with the taxis and trucks.
    It’s a beautiful city. And not at all a bad place to die.

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