Little Epiphanies

Poems are little epiphanies – everyone has them but poets write them down – Alden Nowlan

The Terrorist

                                              You seem innocuous enough
                                              in the everyday world
                                              an offhand smile
                                              I suspect no danger, offer no defence
                                              unaware of the power you wield
                                              and the terror of passion
                                              unwilling to see myself as victim
                                              but in the dark you come to me
                                              tearing apart my benign world
                                              spouting the dogma of love
                                             – that those who don’t believe
                                              will perish in the cataclysm
                                              while true believers
                                              enter paradise.

                                            
                                             The Terrorist was originally published in Ascent 
                                             Aspirations, Fall 2008.

 

 

In the Body

                              Everything begins in the body, and ends,
                              engagement and retreat, generation and degeneration
                              and our hands curve in the shape of a bowl.

                              Kisses are passed from mouth to mouth
                              like secrets we keep from ourselves;
                              everything begins in the body, and ends.

                              Freckles scatter like stars across our skin,
                              we trace the patterns of our lives on each other’s bodies
                              and our hands curve in the shape of a bowl.

                             Arms and legs extend us from our centre
                             reaching, entangling us in other lives;
                             everything begins in the body, and ends.

                             Eyes search out the mirror of other eyes,
                             tears carry our salt to the skin of the other
                             and our hands curve in the shape of a bowl.

                             Entropy is inevitable, as order devolves to chaos,
                             our original perfection declines;
                             everything begins in the body, and ends,
                             and our hands curve in the shape of a bowl.

                            
                            In the Body first appeared in The Dalhousie Review,
                            Spring/Summer 2012.