Standing on the Shoulders of TimeA Poem by Marie AnzalonePoetry was always what happened when we had no words left. It was the language we spoke between cultures to bring down tyrants, honor our
dead, elevate the living, and make sense of waking nightmares. It is courage drawn in charcoal on the pages of each other’s
journals.
All voices need an audience; all acts of courage require a platform. We are: tin men and aluminum women, with aspirations to silver. In your space, in this decade, women learned the art of swordplay and men learned to cry.
You tried to count all the kisses given by lovers through the history of world; and to feel the whole of human history in a single perfect kiss. I watch you take off your capes here, and sometimes find you are superheroes without them. Some of you stand naked
and shout from the rooftops, and the rest just nod and say, “yes… that our friend, being himself again.” Prejudices got burned away in columns of purifying fire; and the most nascent desires are cast in marble for the next generation.
We come together to commune with our limitations and stand on the shoulders of Time. At the end of the day, when ink of what we wrote, has dried; we realize: the view is always better when it is shared with another open heart.
© 2018 Marie AnzaloneAuthor's Note
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4 Reviews Added on February 1, 2018 Last Updated on February 1, 2018 AuthorMarie AnzaloneXecaracoj, Quetzaltenango, GuatemalaAboutBilingual (English and Spanish) poet, essayist, novelist, grant writer, editor, and technical writer working in Central America. "A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to ta.. more..Writing
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