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 Sep 2017 Don Bouchard
nivek
War
 Sep 2017 Don Bouchard
nivek
War
War resides in the heart of Man
its always someone else's fault
the perfect excuse we are all so good at.
All past unhealed reconciliation
rears its ugly head
at the drop of a hat.
Its a wonder War
is not a permanent state.
The storms are pounding
Destruction is rampant
No end seems in sight.
The day is endless
The night never ending
Will it ever, ever be right?

Lightning crashes
Winds are swirling
Torrents of water fall down.
The earth is shaking
The shelter is breaking
Thunderous sound resound.


Above the storm
the Calm prevails
Overlooking the turmoil below.
Awaiting the return
of order again
That Peace and Calm bestow.


Then it is over...

No more pounding
Silence, beautiful silence
Comes whispering in the ears.
The Earth becomes firm
The Sun is still shining
It dries up all the tears.

Through the debris
New hopes arise
Covering the scars below.
Growing stronger, stronger
As strength rebounds
Renewed by the seeds we sow.

Repairing the damage
Replacing the lost
Moving forward with or without.
Finding Hope in the future
as Faith reaches upward
Redeeming Love without a doubt.

--------------------------------
When the storms of life
Cause turmoil and strife,
The Son dries all my tears.
When all seemed lost
I counted the cost
Turned over all my fears.

I am surviving.
I am stronger still.
(c) 11-19-2010
Completed 11-22-2010 for Jen



https://drive.google.com/file/d/1zF01Lz-oQ0wZn7pS-rdzByVonQvZpmBK/view?usp=drive_web
Dear David:

We are deeply gratified that you gave us the opportunity
to read your poems.  Notice that we say “opportunity”
rather than “submission,” for truly you graced us with works
of such enduring power, so sublime, so transcendent,
that our humble words scarce can adequately praise
the sacred privilege of reading them.

Seldom, no, never has human experience been so distilled,
so purified, so exalted, yet so exposed
in all its paradox, its shades and sunbursts,
shouts and silences, the hiding places redolent of inner light,
as in these timeless works.  

A calm breeze from the desert’s edge at dusk,
the chatter of a mockingbird at dawn,
the rumble and crash of a hidden waterfall,
the laughter of a child unseen in a cool wood’s shade,
emanate so intensely from the shapes of these letters
that our faith in the power of language to evoke reality
has been nourished and restored to its proper place.

However, we regret to inform you
that your poems do not meet our needs at this time,
which are for relevant poems for the upcoming
theme issue on Hammer Toes.

We hope you will consider us for future opportunities.

Sincerely,

The editors of ******* Quarterly
Have been collecting a lot of rejection letters lately.  Here's my interpretation.
because I have been listening to
your bullying in my head 44 years
and that is 44 years too long.

Listen up Mrs. K
because in 4th grade you said
I was too fat and stupid to be a poet
and I'd be wasting paper anyway.

Now I have something to say.

Tonight in a bookstore filled
with people as my poetry group
launched our book, and I read my
my poems out loud - I was heard
I was good enough to be there.

Mrs. K, listen up
because I am a poet

and you are evicted.
I've been a witness to your up's
And have held on through your down's
I have seen most of your come's and goes
And all your turn around's

Through all your hopes and all your dreams
And all your wanna be's
I've made the call that through it all
You're still the one for me

From the shadows of the breakdowns
To the hope a new day dawns
From the revolving sound of the in's and out's
To the silent going's on's

From the cost of doing business
To the give away that's free
Though the order's tall, I'll pay it all
You're still the one for me

I have heard you sing the high notes
And can applaud with confidence
Knowing that you are mine from day one in time
And I've been your's ever since

I dig you with golden shovel
And every ounce of you I'll keep
What you've thrown I've caught to take it all
You're still the one for me
 May 2017 Don Bouchard
nivek
soul
 May 2017 Don Bouchard
nivek
truth grabs you in the guts
knocks on your chest
wraps itself in your skin
 May 2017 Don Bouchard
nivek
silence can swallow the Universe
but when it comes to Man

that little wiggling tongue
has a mind all its own

noise is a spoken thunder
jabbering flesh

the smacking of lips
a hiss of the snake.
 May 2017 Don Bouchard
nivek
Stripped of all consolation
the deepest abandonment

Dark night of the soul
an experience of the very worst.
Jesus on the cross "why have you abandoned me"
Tonight the ceiling fan
clicks with every turn.

The bedside clock ticks
and tocks in moonglow.

I close my eyes
and one by one
the light bulbs in
the house explode.

The darkness
becomes me,
I think.

I wear it silky black,
a spider-tailored suit
imponderous as ether.

I focus on the anesthetic sound
of a future breathing inside me.

Memory folds like
an obsolete map—

a distant archipelago
of diminishing stars.

Years ago, I’m sure,
we married in a copse
blue with wild hyacinth.

Tonight the satellites
cut like diamond tips,

lugubrious orbits etching
across a bedroom window.

Dawn always blooms with
the sound of breaking glass.
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