Gaza
We presume affliction by census,
whereas light
requires no faith.
Is the roofless house a home? When you call
who answers? The vulture
spreads its wings
but remains on post. Shifting,
I note minute of angle, windage. No
regrets, only tension. Breathe in. Exhale.
Again.
O at the Edges 
I shudder at the juxtaposition of house without a roof and the razor wire of a prison – and Gaza.
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It’s important to consider such from a place of comfort and safety.
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Indeed, and I implore Hamas for creating such conditions for their people.
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Troubling. But if I understand anything of history, inhumanity, and hatred, this is the world we will always have until the heavens and time are rolled up like a scroll. (Isaiah 34:4, Revelation 6:14).
Precision poetry, Bob. Very well conceived and executed.
Ron
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Troubling and disheartening. I so wish we could evolve beyond violence.
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Great connection of image & text.
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I am especially enjoying that feature of blogging.
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‘is the roofless house a home?’ That really made a hole in my heart 😦 . This one line has summed it all Robert! I wonder at the game-plan of this universe…but I hope that the pattern that emerges in the end will have meaning and love…
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I, too, hope for the same emerging pattern.
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You write Gaza, I read Plane Crash. The clarity in your imagery seems tapped from some universal vein. As much as your words are timeless and beyond any specific location, they’re also very, very scary. In this context, “Breathe in. Exhale. Again.” sounds positively terrifying. It almost seems impious to let you know that your writing is breathtaking. But it is.
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Thank you for your kind words, Manja. We live in scary times.
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The roofless house is a strong image. I will think of it now when I open up the morning paper.
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I’d considered other images, but this one stuck.
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Masterful poem, Robert. The intro, in my view, comes in like a lion: “We presume affliction by census” (maybe it’s those big 3 Latinate words), and the more I think about the lion-like line, the more I love it. Census = an accounting of the living and, by its nature, the no-longer-living (from one census to the other and in the way that the census serves as a basic archival device or surface-level memory-keeper of sorts). The situation in Gaza is so very distressing, and I’m forcing myself to follow the news on it; I hope it can be resolved soon and, as you said, we human beings can at least transcend the violence temporarily if not for longer.
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That line appeared on the page, and the rest followed. It seemed an almost clinical description, which I felt was important to retain in contrast with the rest of the piece.
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profound meditation! probably do a duet hereon! technolgy is empowering tribalism & perhaps a regression to feudalism? creation & destruction – shiva is always dansing! ^^~~~~
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Thanks, Marc. Shiva, indeed.
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i adore your zen coolness & clarity, very apophatic whereas i tend to be catophatic these days! -marc
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lol! now i know we are brothers! you recognized shiva! probably one in ten thousand got that symbolism! it is the key to the poem! “All is destruction.” -Khrisnamurti. 🙂 u made my day conplete! gassho, sacred warrior!
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Very Very Very sad.
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Agreed.
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Heartrending! But….inspiring! The roofless home, the waiting vulture, the silent witness ( you ) all bring home the One Reality…it’s a circle ( can’t call it ‘vicious’) Creation, Preservation and Destruction..now it has to change! The Infinite and the finite, Time & Timelessness both are juxtaposed subtly in your verses! Profound!
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Yes, heartrending! If only the circle could be reshaped for the better…
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This poem has nice breath and breadth … Great job!!)) ~Sophia
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Thank you, Sophia.
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Powerful piece of work. Thank you for sharing it with us.
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