NOT ‘ROSES ARE RED’ — current poem

I know, I know.  Poets are supposed to be writing about wine and roses, the arrival of spring, zephyrs, and so forth.

My Muse isn’t the least BIT interested — this is her truth this ‘cruellest month’…  Bear with me…




listen, God

I’ll trade You

I’ll take those three hours, any day!


forget this sentence of eight entire decades

even the scourging – what was that

an hour or so?


when you have a cruel mother

you are afraid everywhere

even in utero


o.k., so there was the Via Dolorosa

mine the VIE Dolorosa

and nobody helped carry the heavy wood burdens


no kind person wiped tears from my face

on that foreign balcony above a sea

when I finally realized that both daughters


were now the property of a cult

–over thirty years ago, Lord,

longer than they were IN my life


ah, You say, but there was the Agony in the Garden

indeed, every seed and bulb I planted

was the attempted burial of agony


“Will you not watch one hour with Me?”

I have been watching eight decades, Lord

waiting for faith like a mustard seed

belief in just touching the hem of Your garment


believing in mercy


Listen, God

I’ll trade



April 12, 2018





3 thoughts on “NOT ‘ROSES ARE RED’ — current poem

  1. A very strong poem. I feel remiss even mentioning the quality of the writing when I am fully aware that the anguish it so utterly depicts is so very real. The hopelessness of having waited for decades and of time slipping away, more quickly now than ever, hangs in the air after the reading is finished. Bravo, Carolyn, for being fiercely honest and putting forth succinctly your anger at the unfairness of the hand you were dealt.

    To those who would say, « Life goes on » you have answered that indeed it has gone on and on and on trampling your hopes as it has marched forward.

    I pray that this mood will not block out the sun when it finally shines again upon the beauty of the natural world you so cherish. Light and Love, as always.


    -Debbie Hill Sent from my iPad


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