#Poetry Wed: “First They Came…” by Martin Niemöller

“First They Came…” by Martin Niemöller

First they came for the Communists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the incurably sick, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a incurably sick.

Then they came for the schools and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a school.

Then they came for the press and I did not speak out—
Because I was not the press.

Then they came for the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the people in countries occupied by Nazi Germany, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not in countries occupied by Nazi Germany.

Then they came for me—
and there was no one left to speak for me.

​​#Poetry Wed: “肉骨茶 (Meat Bone Tea)” BY S. Qiouyi Lu

“Star anise floats in the night–sea of meat bone tea,
backed by the cloud–flower shapes of lingusticum.
Astragalus, codonopsis, and licorice lashed into a raft
drift among goji berries swimming like vermillion carp…

…the raft touches the riverbank.
Broth clear as spring water, as richly brown as pu’er
soaks into mounds of rice steaming with jasmine scent.

My dear friend arrives. We sit across from each other…”

-​​Read the rest of the poem at Uncanny Magazine.

#Poetry Wed: “Dusk/the piano” by Ceridwen Hall

“There is a pause. You consider what I’ve said,
then you begin playing “Für Elise“. I am lonely
in a way no nearness can alter. The first lines
are so well known they grow eerie. You are learning
again or teaching yourself to play the entire
piece. You harbor it in your wrists; intermittently
all day you’ve returned to the piano. I’ve noticed
from another room, imagined peeling apples,
solving a math problem. Now I sit facing away,
the better to listen to you and the crickets—we left
the door ajar. We are finished arguing for now
and carry the rift between us like a blanket we want
to fold…”

-Read the rest of the poem at Confrontation.

#Poetry Wed: “Self-portrait with Hawk & Armada” by Emily Skaja

“Oh hawk after hawk over Indiana are you watching

me break up on bed after white bed sobbing doing all
the dishes except the one his mouth touched burying

my grief in the thaw-wet yard turning mud
into water miraculous What are you here to collect?

Permit me my report. Spring I can see is in full effect
allowing grassreedswildriverbirchfloodplains & even robins

are compelled by the way this broke the hell out of that’s ripped heart.
Slow. I’m taking it with Ecclesiastes. A time for a time for a time….”

-Read the rest of the poem at Black Warrior Review.

#Poetry Wed: “My Mother’s Cars” by Alison Jarvis

“…Oh,
the cold. Her cars. Her famously
bad driving.
My cousin Tommy once rode
a hundred miles on the floor
because he was too terrified to chance
a look out the window. Even my husband,
my new, second, husband,
whose calm, judicious nature
my mother and I both loved,
threatened to jump out the door
on her high speed town tour.
The new city hall! The municipal pool!
My mother applying lipstick
in the rearview!…”

Read the rest of the poem at Upstreet Magazine (pdf)