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Nigdaw Jun 22
And while Notre Dame burns
Conspiracy theorists rewrite history
On their terms.
Chris Saitta Apr 24
You who have lifted up your sunburned face,
Long-told of peasant warmth and the forest tableaux.
Barefoot, you brought the book of hours upon dusty roads,
Ungoverned, little flower from Jeanne to Lourdes to Lisieux.
Our Lady, osculum pacis, the kiss of peace in wood and stone.

Burned out to those dusty eyes,
Now-empty look of rosework from the forest-fall of sunlight.
Medieval prayer, earthly-dim to its rafters of oak,
Come un-cinctured in ashen cloud of amice and alb,
And the murine blackness of plague-like smoke.

Birds that sit blinking at the winged fossil of intrados,
Pipe air through your own ribbed vaults, organum pulse.
Let the city rise in your vining voices—and hold the note.
The great ***** intones from the runs and pedal stops,
Along the turbid streets of the rue de la Cité to the empire of catacombs.

Beside his candle, the monk in sadness knows
All loveliness of heaven except his own.
Our Lady, every sunset is your faded candle hour of peace, for us to know.
Holy Father, so passes worldly glory,
Over the roofs of Paris like fire-scorned and leaden wings.
WorldWalker Apr 28
She burns.
There is no doubt about that.
She burns and a city weeps,
but the tears cannot put out the flames
and she crumbles.

London bridge is falling;
That’s how the rhyme goes
because you can imagine a world
where the bridge falls.

We could never have imagined this.
We could never have imagined her burning.

She burns and we weep.
The world thinks of nothing else.
Nothing matters but her.
She burns, we weep, and night falls.

At night the flames are
bronze, and bright against a mourning sky
and a bleak sunset.

Our souls drain as the city weeps:
A million and one tears,
a million and one broken hearts.
And a symbol smokes.

She burns. We mourn.
The world doesn’t move on.
mjad Apr 22
just as Notre Dame catches fire
does the turtle's situation become dire
as it struggles to get air
because of another plastic snare
one of millions that float aimlessly
Notre Dame will be rebuilt urgently
over one billion dollars raised in days,

but who really needs to be saved?
The amount of money raised for Notre Dame to be rebuilt would be enough to clean the Great Pacific Garbage Patch. Just saying.
Ylzm Apr 18
Notre Dame Burns
Jerusalem Obliterated
Raised in Three Days
Yet Persists Wars and Bitter Hatred
Deniz Apr 17
The smell of smoke
Stings the nose
As the flames engulf
A body made from wood.

Centuries disappear in moments,
Gone with a flash.
Never to really come back,
Crumbled into ash.
Furey Apr 17
The angels are falling
They burn like Icarus
Falling from above
The building below
It looks like it will collapse
My eyes full of tears
The start of this sacred week
Begins with the flames of a fire
It takes out an important symbol
But things are saved and stored
The angels though they've fallen
Still guard what they've guarded for years
Though in doing so they were burned
Still here I sit waiting for better news
Tears finally falling
When the cinders cool and the answer seekers
pick their way through the charred rubble
what will they find? A medieval carpenter's chisel, a pair of rosary beads, pigeon droppings, the down from an angel's wing, the tears of saints.
For many centuries,
She stood majestically.
She saw many tragedies,
but have stood defiantly.

When disaster struck,
She emerged unscaled.
It's not just by sheer luck,
On her, our Lord was nailed.

Amidst the charred ruins,
and the hot burning flames...
As if reborn with spread wings,
she radiated like ten light beams.

The cross at Notre Dame,
like Jesus on the cross of Calvary,
took it all until the firemen came.
The cross at Notre Dame will never go away.

IvanBrookspoetry
4.17.2019



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This was inspired by another poet's work...credits
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