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Spaghetti knots

where do we go when we go away

in response to the turkey bombing.


i want to write

a poem that could

change things

that could make you feel

so strongly

that you’ll stop

doing much more and


just keep reading

while i keep writing

adding more and more to this poem

so it doesn’t end

and if it does

it shows a poem

that deserves a poet

a life that was spent

in service and slaving words

so as to keep you occupied

away from all the pain that can be

and the hurt that is

and i tell you it’s okay to pain and hurt

and this is part of it

coming from a cut that crept

all of a sudden

quite unaware

when i watched people

die who i had never known

on the tv screen

only watching them

move farther and farther

from them and the

dancing at a peace rally

that showed that a bomb

can really set things off

and they kept going away

dots becoming specks

becoming nothing

like a great city being

watched from the air

and another one coming into view

that is just as far

and maybe as friendly

because there are some families there

having a good time

and occupying themselves

with a poem or too

like this one

and they say my

it goes on and on

and i am thankful for it

and for them

for i hope they do too

with their turkey dinners and

the smell of cranberries

and a smoke from your uncle

given under the table

even though he quit for years

he wants you to know

what it feels like to have that choice

and then the bomb goes


and they go away


and it all falls


and the poem ends


About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)


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