In Albania

In Albania

we visit the Jonathon Center

dance with the children

who are celebrating a birthday

This is the house where Mother Teresa’s mother

and sister lived during Communism

Mother Teresa was not allowed into the country

they said she was a spy

When Communism fall in Albania

Mother Teresa returned

put flowers of forgiveness on the grave

of the dictator and then went to her mother’s grave

When her mother was living

people would have coffee with her

they could not talk about God

there was no God in Albania

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stories from Albania

In Albania

King Saul and the Witch

an elegy for Saul

After the death of the prophet Samuel

Saul

(abandoned by God)

no visions in prophesy or dream

the kingdom snatched from his hand

with the Philistines about to attack

Saul went to the witch of Endor anyway

surely you are Saul who has come to kill me said the witch who recognized him even in disguise (it is hard to fool a witch)

Saul swore to his God (who had abandoned him) he would not kill the witch

She conjured the spirit of prophesy

raised Samuel out of the grave

sent the king into battle knowing of his death

and that of his son

all that remained to him

was death

King Saul and the Witch

Pranked by History

History is no joke. It is a record of what is happening, happened or didn’t happen.  “Fake News” becomes history.  A current event is history tomorrow.  History is ancient or recent.  Ninevah was a real city buried in sand, with a real gate, resurrected and bombed.  

History is a joke when used to advance an agenda.  My fifth grade textbook world history teacher could never get to the chapter on the Middle East.  I would read ahead.  Daydream of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.  I wanted to dig deeper to see what was under the sand.

mind craves for meaning

ammunition for profit

know who benefits

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dVerse prompt – haibun on April Fools Day – being pranked 

Pranked by History

How to Bury a Warrior

Protected

this stronghold only one entrance

Chochise guarded his people

against the enemy

Creek running through

dried venison plants cactus flour

fit for survival and escape

over the ridge into the mountains

US military made peace

gave Chochise his stronghold

as a reservation and let him be

to live out his days

Chochise died and buried there

wrapped in a red blanket

vermillon design on his face

he rode for the last time

Up the ragged wall of the hold

on his horse while being held up

by his beloved followers

to a place high on the ridge

Procession of his final journey

horse and dog and rifles

all dropped deep into a gorge

Chochise’s great warrior burial

Father leader friend peacemaker

lowered into that same gorge

buried into the heart chasm

of his homeland

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NaPoWriMo prompt – how to poem

Chochise Stronghold is in the state of Arizona

How to Bury a Warrior

Remember the Day

My dad was on Okinawa when the atomic bomb hit Hiroshima.  He was a young sailor and rarely talked about his being there.  I never saw a photo taken there.  His wife was waiting in Iowa.  His children were future “boomers” after he came home.

In school I read about the war crimes.  About concentration camps and scientific experiments.  My short essay on “the mushroom cloud” over Hiroshima won a money prize.  Life went on for everyone except the ones who died.  

hear the winter wind

acid rain falling for days

folds night on the land

Remember the Day