BALLAD Poem: Ballad of Veronica, by David Brickey Bloomer
POETRY READINGS
•
1m 50s
Poetry by Val Cole
--
POEM:
Ballad of Veronica
You fixed the pipes and mended bikes,
swept dust before the dawn;
jackfruit smoked upon the fire,
the kettle always on.
You raised a daughter through the war,
through jungle dark and town laid down;
and sometimes, when the nights grew long,
we asked: where’s the lady now?
You fed the scorpion and the snake,
the creatures others feared to take;
no life too fierce, no thing too small—
you found a place and fed them all.
The jungle paths remembered you
where orchids bloom from bloodied ground;
you knew which roots could dull the pain
when soldiers came around.
You spoke but little of the past—
of burned-out homes or vanished men;
the river carried what you knew
beyond the reach of pen.
But when the wind came down the hills
with gunfire in its breath,
you stood like stone beside the door
and waited there with death.
The others fled through rain and smoke,
their lanterns shaking through the brown;
and someone in the dark still asked:
where’s the lady now?
But you were there with kettle warm
while storms tore through the town—
and slowly then we understood
the lady had been found.
Up Next in POETRY READINGS
-
NATURE Poem: Nature, by Alison Angel ...
Performed by Val Cole
----
POEM:Nature
By Alison Angel JavensNature-
You create
We copy
Elsa pareti
Hearts for
Tiffany
Tripping dripping
Glimmering
GotchaGo
open wide
Breath
See with
eyes
Wide open
Look
Down
under
Up and overDiamonds
Squares
Triangles pairs
Comfy
In the womb
Mother Eart... -
NATURE Poem: Rapids, by Alison Angel ...
Performed by Val Cole
-----
POEM:Rapids
By Alison Angel Javens
The rapids of life
A craggily creek
A rambling riverRolling us along
Swiftly
Or snail paced
Or not at allThe rapids of life
Water
turns and churns
Like my insides which
Burn and yearnOh when will I learn to
Glide not be d... -
LOVE Poem: Cold Side of the Bed, by K...
Poem by Val Cole
-----
POEM:Cold Side of the Bed
Loneliness is the cold side of the bed –
the indent where you used to lay,
the smell of your perfume
preserved,as though you’d come back any second
with a “see you later,”
not the goodbye you never said.All the words left on read,
and all I...