Perry Thompson - Two Poems

they can't be wrong
who kill the children
so perfectly and without passion

it must be the will of God
disguised as human voice

more than men
who ask for altars
on which the bright

hearts of our children
lay smashed

they sing us hymns
in our suffering
they give us metal

say stare at the sun
and don't fear burning

we have eternity
to sleep away
the pain

Hifu datsuraku shitsukushite
Tada ichi shinjitsu nomi ari.


He has thought of her leaving as a cedar all in green
like the ones in the park where they used to walk.
He stares.

He thinks of his solitude as a long gray pipe or a cave
where one might wander and find peace of mind.
He breathes deeply.

He isn't concerned
by the depth of his dreaming.  She turns both dim
and clear, less constant in memory each day.

We live in a three-dimensional world.  We
carry a portable universe around  in our skulls.
 We, all of us, seek our original face.