Saturday, October 27, 2007

One political poem by Kendra Sims

Dismal Dominos
by Kendra Sims

A bouquet is offered.
The world inhales the sweet,
Entrancing scent, then gasps.
The barrel of a gun
Pokes through the blooms.

The petals rain like
Mourners’ tears. The reek of
Gunpowder lays thick.
The smoke clears.
Everyone turns their heads.
“Someone’s dead…”

He’d been loading
A cannon. His corpse falls
On the lighter, which
Flicks on. A black ball
Hurls through tense, dense air
To Anywhere.

An official is officially
Accidentally assassinated.
No one cares. All
Ready and rile,
Beating hard on drums of war.
“Please, no more…”

Someone whispers. But
No one chooses to hear. The
Whole world gears
To fight. Worries flare,
And with each war report,
Mouths contort.

But no one speaks. The
Dove is meek, and the hawk
Has sharp talons,
Which he used to
Flick the very first domino.
“No, please, no…”

Author bio:

Kendra Sims, a native of South Carolina, had a pen thrust in her hand at birth instead of any silver spoon. Since then, she's kept trying to feed herself anyway -with the poems and short stories included in publications like Dragons, Knights, and Angels, Bringing Sonnets Back, Arabesques, Susurrus: The Literature of Madness, and Neometropolis as a result. The fuller she gets, the deeper the hunger grows. And at seventeen, she's a gaping maw drooling ink.

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