Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

This morning I wished for a caribou coffee,
and a marzipan danish for company -
a simple diversion to this morning's newspaper.
My direction turned towards the newspaper's wind,
whirling into the street, like a frail, fall leaf.

Never read the front page my neighbor warned me
many times.  It sucks away breath from you sensitive types -
cementing, sealing, seasoning bad news,
bad news delivered to your home, your brain,
for a day or two or more, depending
on your history and which country you live in.

And news and reality are beyond comprehension -
to read the news and be news,
life and death,
dreaming of scaling the mountain
and scaling it -
I hear Atticus Finch speaking to Scout
about understanding someone else. *

My fourteen year old opined one morning
over cinnamon french toast, Michigan maple syrup,
and orange juice, that religion is the reason for war,
all war, for why people kill each other.
I told him religion, sometimes a contagious paradigm,
aflicts or gives radiance depending who is practicing.

This morning I read the front page plague,
my extremities turning cold...
"news of the deaths of J. Christopher Stevens,
 the ambassador to Libya, and three other
 Americans emerged Wednesday..."
reminding me why I hate the news.


*If you have not already, please read Harper Lee's incredible book, "To Kill a Mockingbird".  Atticus Finch says "You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view - until you climb into his skin and walk around in it."

No comments:

Post a Comment