Slaughterhouse Five: A Found Poem

No art is possible without a dance with death.
But the burning never stops hurting
and all there is to say is,
"I know. I know. I know."

So it goes.

A planet that has been engaged in senseless slaughter
must be the terrors of the universe.
How can planets live at peace
when there is free will?

So it goes.

They all want dignity.
Yet the main effect of war is that people
are disconnected from being
characters
and there will always be wars because
they are as easy to stop as
glaciers.

So it goes.

Everything is supposed to be quiet
after a massacre,
and it always is.
Except for the birds.

POW-TEE-WEET?


Composed by: Nomi Duech, Crystal Austin, and Sara Waxman
STHS, April 1999

in between

Something not quite fitting between you and me and he.
Only subtleties web us together.
A criss cross of wires in the booth, the catcher above his bed,
left you and me missed by he.

A rearrangement of rooms forces the catcher above my head –
entraping bodies in dreamscapes filled with prima ballerinas
dancing within the stripped rib cages of giant swans.

The purple walls spill translucent light
as the dancers come in thrusts between me:

You and He.

out loud

days of heat and pressure
raise the temperature
day to day
as i am reminded of a contract
from so long ago
made on the floor of
my bedroom
with tears of
wanting spilling onto
pages unwritten
written and scrawled.
i live in unconditional love
brimming with
heart aches, day breaks,
rain plays, and the curing of hiccups.
the contract i signed
promises forever to be
a measure of
my failure today.
but it is in today that
i am invincible.
failure waits but
will have to
wait as
moments of stillness
of falling into stars
of touching hands
on cool hard stone
of hiccups cured
by eye contact and slow breath
triumph.
tremors
that follow,
vibrations and ripples,
remind me of the possibility
of failure
but
i am invincible
because i live
in truth -
words out loud
sound out my
desire
laying
my soul
my skin
my scar
bare for
everyone to see.
i am self conscious
but i am not afraid of
the consequences.
i am invincible.

pixie dust

my dreams
hold pixie dust
sprinkled over
seven years of
giving way,
dust swept
away by
stopping words
blown in
just as it settles.

he always said
his girls
scalped their
heads after
being with him.

my scalping
stripped away
the last fiber of
giving way,
leaving me
simply as
i am.

i am
the eight year
old child
that every woman
remembers -

my girl
clinging tight to
tree tops for
hours as they swayed -
butterflies
jumping in
her not yet
developed breast,
dancing
in anticipation
of the fall.

an angel
sensual and sweet,
tells me my child
is my core.
she takes me by the waist,
leans her head on my shoulder
and asks about the
fading rainbow i saw today.

i tell her the
secrets of his eyes
and how i cried
when he left,
tasting tears
i don't - won't - can't
understand,
and how i
wonder if pixie dust
settles around him
or is blown
away by
his winds.

free bird

i am a free flying bird.
i fly on the wind,
where broken ankles
easily mend.

quarters

i can't breathe
with these tears
i can't breathe
from these screams
i thought
i thought
i thought
if i spoke out
if i sought advice
the answers would come
and they came
in the form
i can't breathe
i can't breathe
of words.
i never thought words could,
would hurt me.
i thought by telling the
world i would learn.
i would.
i would.
the world gave me
answers,
told me to speak,
breathe
to breathe
they counted my
grey hairs and
asked why i cried,
was crying
was screaming
i can't breathe
i'm falling
i'm falling
when i fell.