Sentinel Literary Quarterly

Vol.2 No.2, January 2009. ISSN 1753-6499 (Online). www.sentinelquarterly.com

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Bernard Gieske
Genna Gardini
Helena Carolinska
Michael Lee Rattigan
Nnorom Azuonye
Ramesh Dohan
Sholeh Wolpé
Terri Ochiagha
Tolu Ogunlesi
Uche Nduka
Uchechukwu Umezurike
William Stephenson
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

POEMS

 

Bernard Gieske

 

So Many Multitudes

 

It began with thundering

            marching

                        raindrops

 

Like a thundering herd of

            buffalo stampeding

                        over prairie land

 

Hidden faceless immigrants

            toiling late into the night

                        drenched in debt and sweat

 

Rows of manikins

            with revolving hands

                        spewing out endless things

 

Rows of benches

            lined with fear

                        protests hidden in folded sleeves

 

Language barriers

            frozen passports

                        wages withheld

 

working in

            the Land of the Free

                        the “garbage” of global economy

 

No Justice Here

 

 

No Hope

 

Nothing with no hoping is nothing

Happening with no hoping is coincidence

Seeing with no hoping is sightless

Time with no hoping is doomed

Willing with no hoping has already ended

Doing with no hoping is drudgery

Laughing with no hoping is choked

Sun with no hoping is without a day

Awaking with no hoping is all night

 

  

The Farmer

 

welcomes spring

            opening his book of fields

                        furrowing the pages

 

rows of stories

            revisited

                        repeated traces of family history

 

new entries

            sown

                        branching free

 

budding ears

            picking the tunes

                        of spirited winds

 

under sailing caravans

            caught up in the swirling arms

                        of chapters in an autumn way

 

rolling up the scrolls

            of leaves of grass

                        spirited away from winter chills

 

settling in lofty bins

            cribbed indexes

                        of a next generation

 

 

The Big Tree (2)

 

here’s the place

I can rest

under this tree

its canopy embracing me

 

no sun, no moon

just the dark, dark blue

under this big tree

now blanketing me

 

my companion along

with this dream of the journey

trekking a dusty road

under the heat

of a burning sun

in busy pursuits

to a lasting resting place

 

this welcome haven melts my dreams

 

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Bernard Gieske writes from Bowling Green, Ky. His poems have appeared in Words Words Words, Moonset The Newspaper, Paper Wasp and Write Me a Metaphor.

 

Sentinel Literary Quarterly

 Published by Sentinel Poetry Movement

Editor: Nnorom Azuonye

©2009 The authors and artists as credited. All rights reserved. Reprint permissions.

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