"ottawa" poems - Hello Poetry

Diaspora From the Greek When I heard the word I felt it And I looked it up In my old red dictionary I could have used the Internet, I suppose But I like to run my forefinger down pages Of words I read the definition And I felt it Oh Oh We are diaspora. Am I using it correctly? We are a diaspora. Diaspora From the Greek From the green valley of Ottawa From Scotland From Ireland on wooden boats From the French village thirteen children From the mines in the North From Poland and from Germany From the churches and From the Blueberry patches From the Island Manitoulin From the dark lake Kagawong From Kinburn and Arnprior From Markstay and from Sudbury From Waterloo From Kitchener, Michener From the Suburbs Oh From the Suburbs From the red bricks, red currants And geraniums From green island cabins From the desert Oh From the desert From the potholes and pipes From the salty wind Cracked Caspian Sea From the middle of the east of nowhere. From the mountains Oh From the mountains From the crystal water fountains From the tram bells On the cobblestone streets From the torrents of the Rhein From the white cross Oh From the white cross On the green hill From the river Laurence From the French and from the English Plains of Abraham We are diaspora We are a diaspora Diaspora From the Greek How did it end up here on my tongue? It is diaspora. It is a diaspora Diaspora is a diaspora And I wonder if it misses its other pieces The way that I miss mine Ours There is no Roping us back together now There is no Home to go back to There is no Point of meeting Of reunion No White steeple in our old town No Yellow slide in our backyard No Old folks on an old farm No Walled house on a hill No Luzernerring 93 No Familiar riverwater There is no Ancient Greek anymore Diaspora Only fragments of fragments Of roots of stems of words In different dialects There is no Place for you to belong, Diaspora You’ve been sliced to pieces And scattered Into the wind But When people ask you Where you are from You say simply From the Greek Oh From the Greek And When people ask me Where I am from I say simply From the diaspora.

0

Oct 19, 2015

Oct 19, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC

ariel-evangeline-baptista

From the Greek

Diaspora From the Greek When I heard the word I felt it And I looked it up In my old red dictionary I could have used the Internet, I suppose But I like to run my forefinger down pages Of words I read the definition And I felt it Oh Oh We are diaspora. Am I using it correctly? We are a diaspora. Diaspora From the Greek From the green valley of Ottawa From Scotland From Ireland on wooden boats From the French village thirteen children From the mines in the North From Poland and from Germany From the churches and From the Blueberry patches From the Island Manitoulin From the dark lake Kagawong From Kinburn and Arnprior From Markstay and from Sudbury From Waterloo From Kitchener, Michener From the Suburbs Oh From the Suburbs From the red bricks, red currants And geraniums From green island cabins From the desert Oh From the desert From the potholes and pipes From the salty wind Cracked Caspian Sea From the middle of the east of nowhere. From the mountains Oh From the mountains From the crystal water fountains From the tram bells On the cobblestone streets From the torrents of the Rhein From the white cross Oh From the white cross On the green hill From the river Laurence From the French and from the English Plains of Abraham We are diaspora We are a diaspora Diaspora From the Greek How did it end up here on my tongue? It is diaspora. It is a diaspora Diaspora is a diaspora And I wonder if it misses its other pieces The way that I miss mine Ours There is no Roping us back together now There is no Home to go back to There is no Point of meeting Of reunion No White steeple in our old town No Yellow slide in our backyard No Old folks on an old farm No Walled house on a hill No Luzernerring 93 No Familiar riverwater There is no Ancient Greek anymore Diaspora Only fragments of fragments Of roots of stems of words In different dialects There is no Place for you to belong, Diaspora You’ve been sliced to pieces And scattered Into the wind But When people ask you Where you are from You say simply From the Greek Oh From the Greek And When people ask me Where I am from I say simply From the diaspora.