Elizabeth does make-up for television, is about to graduate from Boise State, and looks forward to traveling the world. I met her when I was filming a cool youtube interview with my friend Sohail, one of my earliest strangers for this project (his word: blessed). I was given words by two people on the film crew. I’ll turn them into a linked poem. Today’s is part one.
The Stranger: Elizabeth
The Word: Peace
The poem I wrote:
She stops singing,
stops and stares at us
like we’re a ghost;
she is all cheekbones
and ash, she says,
Not now, but in middle
school, when it mattered,
when peace bit at us
like a mosquito and
we slapped it away,
to think of the trouble
I would have had
if I had been beautiful.
The Challenge: Do you have a poem in you on this word? Write one here.
June 13, 2019 at 4:12 pm
Sunday Visit
It’s quiet enough now
that all the stories have been told
or stolen.
Quiet enough to hear
the door unlock
and all the eyes lift, if they can,
to greet you
Meet the waiting,
wounded,
their rubber-tipped props,
broken histories stopped.
“Mother is coming today”
“Help me find the way”
Missed buses,
missing spouses,
estranged shirt buttons.
This quiet is not peace.
It is war without weapons,
hand to hand combat.
“Why is my meat brown?
I like it red
Can’t you stay?”
“Not today”
June 13, 2019 at 10:52 pm
Weekday Noon Mass
“Peace be with you,” we say at the assigned time
(Thank God they tell us what to say, talking to strangers is so awkward)
We shake hands and move along the pew
(I want to add ‘you can’t give what you don’t have’– it cost me $2,000 in therapy bills to learn that)
“Peace. Peace be with you,” down the line
(I can’t sleep at night. No peace to give. Hey, I know that look– fear, loss, ever-so-tired…me too)
“Peace be with you, peace.”
(I do wish it for you. I can’t give it, but I wish it. For you, for us. Also, I will sanitize my hands after Mass)
“Peace.”
(You wish it for me, too? Hey, I know that look– sincerity)
“Peace be with you.”
(God, look at us. No, really, God, look at us. We forewent the Chinese buffet lunch special to be here. Why?)
“Peace.”
(Hey, Brother, hang in there. I will look for you next week…)
June 17, 2019 at 8:48 am
Short on Words
Hello, good morning, good evening,
How are you? Do you eat bread?
I drink water. A boy is a child.
A girl is a child. I am reading
The menu. Life is basic
In a new language. A spider
Is an insect. I am a man.
What’s there to fight about? I
Don’t have words to start a fight.
The women are reading a newspaper.
She wants the apple. Is this all
It takes for peace? To be short
Of words? I’m sorry. The boys
And the girls are good. Be short.
June 18, 2019 at 6:35 pm
Requiescat In Pace
Peace on Earth
Is the message for all seasons
Goodwill to man and womankind
In the easing of our pleasing.
Be at Peace.
Turn off the TV and the news.
Walk your dog on a forest trail.
That path is less confused.
Be at Peace.
Watch some children hard at play,
No concerns for the tomorrows,
Just the pleasures of today.
Be at Peace.
Perform a selfless deed.
Be a boy or girl scout
Helping those in need.
Be at Peace.
Sit down and read a book.
Indulge your imaginings
In the comfort of your nook.
Be at Peace.
Take time to smell the roses.
Aromas inhaled orchestrally are
A symphony for our noses.
Be at Peace.
Slow down and take some time.
What’s the hubbub and the hurry?
Add some reason to your rhyme.
Be at Peace.
Take time to make some art.
Craft something that’s beautiful–
Creations from the heart.
Be at Peace.
Sit quite still and take some breaths.
Follow flowing ripples–
Expanding consciousness.
Be at Peace.
Cross your problems off the list.
Tell yourself, “I’ve got no worries,”
Your pisstations are dismissed.
Be at Peace.
Acquiesce to make a pax.
Accept serenity and tranquility.
Do so and relax.
Requiescat In Pace.
Everyone gets ripped.
We take a tumble through our lives.
Our fall will end the trip.
recycled from December 2017
March 31, 2023 at 11:51 am
the art of peace keeps eluding me
it hides behind lock and key
lost to never-ending time
peace is like the treasure hidden in a field
protected by sword and shield
shaded by the dark of my crime
i search endlessly, where is it?
unable to find the place it deemed fit
covered by the moss and grime
my search is a game that ceases to end
lost all i love from the time i spend
on the fields endless climb
the art of peace is untraceable
its location is surreal, a fable
a fictitious land hidden by nighttime
the art of peace eludes me forever
its hiding spot infinitely clever
hidden perfectly except for a stime
the glimpse of the peace that could be mine