GOOD FRIDAY
Not forgotten
Still
At the place
Where you died
Still
They kill.
Not forsaken
Til
Every last inch
Of ground is theirs
Til
The end.
Not forbidden
Will
The hatred be,
And the ruins
Will
Lie still.
Not forgotten.
But who cares?
Friday, 2 April 2010
Day 2
A bit more time today ... this page is dedicated to the National Poetry Writing Month - or NaPoWriMo - with the challenge to write a poem every day throughout April. I don't generally do poems. I did some for A215, but only one of those was any good, according to my published poet tutor - so I haven't touched poetry in A363.
GOOD FRIDAY
Not forgotten
Still
At the place
Where you died
Still
They kill.
Not forsaken
Til
Every last inch
Of ground is theirs
Til
The end.
Not forbidden
Will
The hatred be,
And the ruins
Will
Lie still.
Not forgotten.
But who cares?
GOOD FRIDAY
Not forgotten
Still
At the place
Where you died
Still
They kill.
Not forsaken
Til
Every last inch
Of ground is theirs
Til
The end.
Not forbidden
Will
The hatred be,
And the ruins
Will
Lie still.
Not forgotten.
But who cares?
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Hi Frances,
ReplyDeleteI like this and I think it has potential. It has simplicity and a strong, driving rhythm. If it were mine, I might be tempted to come back and play about with the way it is presented on the page. It might be possible to create the suggestion of a cross a la George Herbert. See you tomorrow.:0)