Friday, October 26, 2007

Cataracts Eye the Light in the Sky

And the sky is filled with light that streams
between the wings of aeroplanes
And in the dirty heart of each there lives a lie
The same lie told over and over
The lie that rings between bell and clapper
Sunday morning salutation to the heart’s defeat
At the hands that steer the rudder

The sky is filled with smoke that streams
Between the teeth to mouth an oh
So loud as to be heard around the world
And setting out from the centre stem
The mushroom cloud heads for the moon
While all around is turned to glass
By the hands that steer the rudder

Enola Gay - your name itself obscures
Your mission cold and all that will ensue
To lose our way our vision grey
Too blinded by the light to see
That this light is not the spark of hope
That lives within the cavern of my chest
while my hands they steer the rudder


karoline said...

i'm choked pi..watched a documentary the other week and it left me with the same feeling..what gut wrenching, blood curdling horrors that we are capable of..


gregra&gar said...

We cannot save our lover
Teaching duck and cover
We cannot save our moms
By having the most bombs
We cannot keep our friends
When their fear of us depends
On trusting our greedy leaders
To not be bottom feeders

Absolute Vanilla (and Atyllah) said...

You've captured the horror the pain the futility of Hiroshima so brilliantly.
As I started reading I thought, Pisces must be writing about the Enola Gay... I remember reading a book about the story when I was teenager, the travesty of that story, of the event, has never left me.
Powerful and brave poem.