John Eustace Needham

John Eustace Needham Jan 2013

Comedy

Laughter,
throughout the theatre;
hers was all he heard.

John Eustace Needham Jan 2013

Another three a.m.
from too many smiles
and aching again to see the green lakes in your eyes
sparkle like white wine
and longing to hear another word sing from your lips
because your voice is like water,
and another just-fifteen-minutes-more
so that I can find the right words to say
and another sincere I-know-what-you-mean
and another one of your thoughts
kissing the ends of my sentences,
and then three more of your I-gotta-go-to-beds
and another shot at keeping you here
and one last goodnight
and I'm so far away
and I love you.

Another three a.m.,
and it's more than
just the miles
keeping us apart.

This poem, in particular, really needs to be read aloud. The pacing is very important. Do not pause at line breaks; pause only at punctuation marks.

John Eustace Needham Jan 2013

Untitled

Thank God we can't see their tiny faces,
masked over with dust and blood.
Thank God Uncle Sam erases
their mothers' tears in a vast, media-flash of patriotic flood.

Thank God they all die over there,
and not on our classroom's floor.
Thank God we don't have to care
about collateral damage behind a bolted door.

Thank God we can't see their names lie
beneath a bright, smiling yearbook photo of tragic glint.
Thank God we bury them out of our mind before they die;
the calamity of infants is concrete covered with tiny hand prints.

Our Windows are open,
but Thank God the blinds are closed.
-
I hope we write "HOPE" on our missile heads,
so they can see what we're really all about.

— The End —