Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Boot Bottom View

The World at War was a 26-episode television documentary series about World War II. It was mandatory viewing in our home one year in the 70's. The graphic realities of hatred, persecution and antisemitism that I learned of forevermore engraved my young soul with indignation.

I carry those starving naked victims on my shirt sleeve. The following poem was written for their sake and was originally published March, 2003 in a now defunct e-zine called The Sidewalk's End.

Boot Bottom View

His thick heavy mouth
was chapped from too much licking,
too much savoring in the duties he carried out.
His bottom lip hung open from his face
and held a pool of saliva
that he drank from
just prior to speaking words of

Combat-booted feet that were
removed from Earth's pulse
just for a moment,
or maybe for two,
depending on his mood.
He crossed them on a rich cherry desk
without leaving a scuff.
I could smell the polish.
He admired his reflection.

He passed an expensive cigar under his nose
for long whiffs, he
petted the underside of his chin with its horizontal edge
then wetted one end
with sensual suckling.
He heated it from the flame of a wand
struck slowly from the tip.
Rings of smoke wobbled away

in the still humid air. I sat without moving
yet my blood poured from temples
to heart and back again,
all of it in one place or the other.
My feet stung for the lack of it.
I tried to sing hymns to myself and imagine
a meadow with oaks all around.

But when I noticed his thin slow smile cut across the desk,
into my meadow the hymn screeched to an end
and a hawk lifted from the grove of oaks - it's wings
pushing against my panic to soar away.
Its long and lonesome cry
was the last thing.

To learn more about persecution of Christians around the world please visit the official site of the Voice of The Martyrs. If interested in helping children who suffer the consequences of war, famine and natural disasters please visit World Vision. I am not affiliated with either of these organizations but have come to believe that they are worthy laborers.

But, as for you, brethren, do not grow weary in doing good.
2 Thess. 3:13

Photograph (Holocaust Memorial Sculpture) courtesy of RIPizzo.

1 comment:

  1. You have a beautiful blog page and I love your theme through-out it. I beleieve that God is pleased with your content and hope that you continue to walk in His light.