Yesterday Morning I Tried To Write a Poem About Bombings


about synagogues and mosques
what it means that people
bomb one another when they’re praying
and when they’re not praying
how some people actually think one life
matters more than another
a life is a life whatever you believe
and nothing I wrote was a poem
none of the words cried none of them sang
I wrote anger and sadness it sounded
like a speech, not a poem,
like one of those plays
you want to leave because
someone’s standing there
giving you a very long lecture
when I feel angry, I don’t know what to say
hope is more my vocabulary
sometimes I wonder
why I know for sure it’s there.

for Yehuda Amichai

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.

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