This is Day 7 of the 30 poems in 30 days NaPoWriMo challenge. I took my prompt for this one from Jack Edwards who suggested being a fly on the wall some place. I chose a wall of my studio- crowded with photos of historic legends, art, and quotes. At a friend’s party.
But I must ask them, you say, dangerously tilting your dirty martini
I have to know what they would say- of shaking planets and seas
possessed with taking back. Joan of Arc leaning against the Paris skyline,
overhears, takes Antoine’s glass, his last sip. To live is to believe,
Living things shudder.
Che offers a cigar to Buddha, reclined on tres lounge, his Voysey serpents
slowly swimming to pectorals, No thanks Che– I’ve had enough.
And to you~ No one saves us but ourselves. Don’t take it personally.
Frieda, shouldn’t we call it a night?
But wait. Really Che, Kurukule challenges, leveling her red bow just over
the Himalayas, be realistic; everything is impossible, yes?
Ah! Thank god he wasn’t Buddhist! Shrieks Edith, raspy voice booming under lizard drunk eyes. And that death does not exist.
And what of revolutions ignited by hunger, you say, defiance spilling into the streets,
our hearts holding their fear-
the room falls silent.
Geronimo lights his cigarette with a match. Night falls.
While living, we must live well. The world is our oyster. Antoine slowly refills his glass. It is impossible to live without poetry, color, and love. Che stands up, catches the butterfly about to land near Winston,
Never, never, never give up.
copyright Tara Linda 2011