Four poems
Recent poems from my heart.
It’s been a very hard week, and it’s difficult to find the words for today’s newsletter. For the last few days, I’ve been channeling my emotions into poems. Poetry can speak to people without thousands of words. I will let my poems speak for me today.
*** No Russian tears can touch me anymore. They may all drown in them, and my heart won’t move for a second. People say you should be above hate, but they are wrong. You don’t take your enemies to heaven. You go low, reach hell, and leave them where they belong.
Uncountable Who will count the invisible victims of war? Relatives of those killed who couldn’t continue to live without their loved ones. People who didn’t get treatment in time. Children who died in mother’s wombs. They will never appear in the statistics. They will forever stay uncounted. No historians will write about them in their books. All the families that will never be. All the years that won’t come. All the future that was destroyed. Loss cannot be measured and stored in charts. Numbers will never show you the real toll of war. You can only see it with your heart.
*** I refuse to live in the world where people hide their heads in the sand, because then you are surrounded by millions of butts. The more time goes on, the more we fail Ukraine, and by doing so, we fail us.
Dragon Only justice can heal a heart broken by loss from violence. “Love your enemies” was invented by those wanting to avoid responsibility for their crimes. When your heart explodes from pain, it turns into a dragon spitting rage fire. The more people try to put it down, the brighter it burns.
“If you are silent about your pain, then they will kill you and say that you have enjoyed it.”
Zora Neale Hurston
Email: daryazorka@substack.com
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Again, your poems touch me deeply.
And have a true and familiar ring, reminding me of some of the psalms written thousands of years ago by King David and others in the face of death and destruction and injustice.
Hauntingly beautiful, strong, true.