War

World turns on a grain of sand

What was north is now south

Exploded by a web of lies

And misunderstood truths

Everyone screams for themselves

While others disappear, and perish

Hiding are the ones behind the power

Laughing as they gather their papers

And transform them into gold

Nothing is worth anything now

The ashes are simple reminders

Of how this used to be fertile

For the angels have fallen asleep

And the devil is behind the wheel

There were butterflies here

Now there are only spirits

And crumpled bits of newspaper

And used up garbage bags

Saying, you are done for this time

 

©2017 Valerie Hathaway

Life, As Laundry

NOTE: This is from my poetry class: write a poem as one large metaphor.

 

Memories are sorted into piles

Darks, lights, whites

Colors of all shades and feelings

 

The dark times are bathed in cold water

And dried just enough to not bleed,

Though they do fade eventually

 

Brighter moments mean warmer temperatures

Rinsed so they are clear

And softened in the dryer, in the heat

 

White events take it hot and dry out longer

Needing a touchup from the iron

As the passion is burned in

 

Special occasions need handwashing

In gentle soap and warm water

Then laid out flat and reshaped into form

 

When dry, memories are tucked away

Or hung up in the closet of the mind

Waiting for a remembrance, to be worn again

 

©2017 Valerie Hathaway