Gloria Mindock (Western Voices 2023)

Bio: Gloria Mindock is editor of Červená Barva Press. She is an award-winning author of 6 poetry collections, 3 chapbooks and a children’s book. Her poems have been published and translated into eleven languages. Her recent book ASH (Glass Lyre Press, 2021) won 7 book awards and was translated into Serbian by Milutin Durickovic and published by Alma Press in Belgrade. Gloria was the Poet Laureate in Somerville, MA in 2017 & 2018. For more information about Gloria Mindock, visit her website at: www.gloriamindock.com

 

 

Shy

 

Living in resistance where words

don’t feel shy.  If not heard,

they will only float

in the abyss…

 

My life remains doubtful to

the whims of others.

Pain has become a habit of enduring.

The sign of the cross, a ritual of images,

prayers of rain.

 

Buildings fall around me.

Concrete so impatient, it has

to crumble.

Death has entered this city.

 

This waiting is forever.

Taking cover, not knowing

how much longer I have,

my only certainty is the sirens,

howling like wind in my ears.

 

Flooded by tears, my body

drowns in weariness,

this moment, this time.

A vacuum of sadness…

Grief accompanies me into infinity

for the last rays of light.

***

 

 

Fog

 

It is foggy, clouds nourishing

the ground, sky.

There is something about the way

clouds layer like blankets.

 

In your country, I would like to think

you are warm, have food

to keep you alive.

 

It has now become a ritual, this suffering,

day and night missiles strike,

people are shot by the enemy,

dead bodies on the ground.

 

I want the fog to hide you, lift you up,

take you to a new place, or take the soldiers away,

giving ground back,

where all of Ukraine can live once again,

All that is destroyed

is reborn again.

***

 

 

Loss

 

Today, I threw myself

into the garbage.

Bits of me, memories…

 

It all will end in the trash anyway.

I must be the one to say good-bye.

Send it all on a journey to the incinerator.

 

I am mourning the pieces of me

burning

like I was never here.

 

Maybe you will hear me

crying for all I let go.

***

2 comments :

  1. I appreciate your staccato phrasing a lot-- love the first two poems especially.

    ReplyDelete
  2. These poems break my heart. They are a litany of sorrow and hope. Wonderful work!

    ReplyDelete

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