I was just really moved by the story of the rescued miners, and I decided to do a little writing. This is a piece written for The Spoken Word Almanac Project (SWAP) which is a multimedia poetry performance piece that explores and responds to the year’s current events through the medium of spoken word. We will be performing at The Tank NYC from December 9-11.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/14/world/americas/14chile.html?emc=na
A day will come
when we return to the earth.
Bodies worn down to whittled bone,
skin loosened by
accumulated years heavier
than the miner’s steel pickaxe.
Someday, this flesh will give way
to the onslaught of virii and parasites,
germs and toxins. Cancer cells will multiply
and drag down the mightiest.
Crashed cars and despair
will take care of the rest – this inevitable pull
as sure as the sunrise.
But the earth’s jealousy
will claim no lives in Chile today.
Ferocious, we cling to life.
Hope, naked and simple,
unnecessaries boiled away
in the fire of this collective need.
A wife and a mistress
will find common ground
see beyond emerald eyes
and seething rage,
hold hands
whisper together
“Please God let him be all right.”
Children will forget grudges,
harsh words exchanged over dinner tables,
arguments that only mattered
when the time for forgiveness
seemed infinite.
With death’s spectre behind us,
cold breath against neck,
we stared into mirrors
and wept for the reminder
of the face he gave us.
There will be time later for blame,
for union strikes and better safety.
Time for consideration of profits,
and reopening earthen wounds.
Time to question
whether wearing your country’s flag
is the best way to show pride.
Time for us to return to foolish anger,
to carry useless burdens gaudily painted
to resemble necessity.
But there is time.
There is time.
There is time.
like an open book 