Patriarchy’s Grief
She dreamed of 3 men and 3 falcons, dancing in mid sky,
descending, softly, to great standing power,
expansive fields catching their every wish.
Majestic birds heed their call, landing on shoulders of giants, holding Court.
A cacophony of indecipherable languages morph into sweet, terrible songs,
feathered bodies take fast flight,
floating above in circular formation,
6 eyes patiently survey taken ground.
Man offers another interlaced hands,
the proudest stepping up into aided loft, rocketing past natural flight
until air stops.
2 men peer skyward at falling flesh,
down at shattered bone.
Concern stands over foolish dreams,
hearts and feet, heavy as boulders,
downcast eyes dark with resolution.
Falcons float freely, perplexed at simple lunacy.
She stands distant watching them, grounded in forced perspective,
lifeless men and majestic birds of prey,
her heart soaring with hopes of reason
amid the stench of patriarchy’s grief.
April Marten, 2016
First land I am torn from,
mother’s womb.
Second land, breast.
Third, native land.
finally, laid to rest
Somewhere
April Marten, 2018
Miami’s Moon
We go there
to the edge,
escaping concrete heat,
and she rocks us like babies
with her waves of sound
and rhythms tides,
12 hours
hypnotized,
saline breath
baptized,
you are healed!
of Your affliction,
of Our inflammatory condition
Atlantic pride,
for a moment,
we are ocean
vast and fluid,
celestial bodies call us back
12 hours
sends us out,
spilling over,
mean-cracked streets,
spilling in,
to small-box houses,
waxing and waning,
perpetual cycles,
Ecstasy and grief.
April Marten 2019
Last night in a dream
Weeping and gnashing
Two eye teeth fall into oblivion
April Marten, 2016
Deep Throats
🙏
They filed in behind her
5 little soldiers
citizens without rights
bending knees at the altar of governing bodies
heads bow
lessons commence
jaws lift
mouths open wide
macerated myths bubble up,
violent bile streams
deep down fledgling throats.
Restrained by silent stares,
bloated with foul,
full and void,
they file out
in
perfect
formation.
April Marten, 2018