Film Photography > Poetry

She was singing in the rain

She said she likes the storms with the light bursting through the earth
Seeds revealing a green sprout

One sunbeam found a way
To create a new source of life.

So many of us took to the troubles
No one wants to listen to the news

While being Blindsided by Devastation and hate
On the outskirts of the rough edges

Of our own lives.

It nice to sing to those that are hurting
alleviate the depression with each call
Note
Song patterns in the Melodies sheet music

Arpeggio and progression
The words are catchy
But not enough to be a meaningful

Anthem.

Through the grey and all the smoke

Destruction Cloaks and charred blankets strangling hope

Songs instead of bombs
Songs instead of bombs!

A sanctuary of embraces
We are all Astral beings

They would always place the golden child with the kid that was deemed unfit for society
Separation from the start
Partners from different places
Hoping each would teach something to the next
Who decides who is more illuminated?

And Which child can occupy a space
On the graves of all ancestral
of all?

When our blood all shines
In the dust of the
rough cuts.

No one can listen to the
Symphonic playground
Of laughter

Swirling trumpets and strings like guiding wires
Taking you and the children

over the perils to safety
Sandpits that dampen everything that falls
Some sort of security in this
When We were the horizon seekers

The ones that would stay up as late as possible for a new start
Just to watch days shift into each other
Hoping for peace in a resolute sunset

Some sort of sign to be given
A new beginning to an end
To the antipathy

Metamorphoses kicks and untied laces
Displaced from all the places

There’s a sucker stuck on a lamppost
A Ruby one
A Cherry pop

Stop and think who tumbled to dislodge
The sweetness

Curvatures and crevasse and bruises
Bodies along fences and wrapped

canvases of bleeding
reminisces

I know there an island where they are giving away homes for cheap
Ones that still have roofs

The population is slipping and there’s not enough stories to go around
Or babies being made.

Music isn’t being strummed
how it use to be played

With the hearts drum
Just to take off the jagged edges
Of war and desolation

When need became greed
and we all watched the horror in the flames

Scrolling through fantasy

Schools without windows or walls and frames
Hospital with a burning corridor

No water to quench anything
It’s just charcoal and dirt
And screams of ghosts.

While we lost the most on repeat
The press is a pile of bones

Pens and phones
Indecipherable homes

Mirrorless gazes in Gaza
Mirrorless gazes in Gaza

Where is humanities shine?
Terror rise
Tear errors
Terra size

Food doesn’t have any taste in the waste of the human race
Are we just broken culture and
gunpowder

The bottom of the well bucket is blown out
Doubts are piled on the shelf with artillery shells
The Weapons manufacturers are get richer

The stocks have quadrupled

Who fuelling who’s despair
Air sirens out a sink

It’s the terror choir in lamentations
No one has a voice that can heard

Bodies piled up with the blame
Even the innocent cannot remain.

No blessing or prayer or text or influencer or divine being can even be recognized anymore
It’s all Ai gospel

Horror movies are now children stories

Rattle of the dice in a empty cup
Teeth lost in the stones

No one is singing in the rain
Anymore.


Francis A Willey
October 28th 2023

For the children of Gaza

Destruction Cloaks
poetry
2023