in-dependence day

Snuggled in the cradle of your breath
i’m growing ink-soaked wings;
letters signed with blood and sweat,
etched non-erosive in my heart

Today i chew my pen to pieces,
watch the flags, weeping on halfmast–
mourning, shaken by a changing wind

before they bend into another day

And lying in the trenches of a land
that once was wide, i’m counting shots,
calculating chokingly what it may take
to win when all the dies are cast

It is the kind of death we’re dying daily
sometimes without sensing the decay
and sometimes without feeling homeless

As the wind blows through my hair,
i stand erect
and in my hand the flames of hope
as i walk closer to the water

.
as a german, it would be strange to really write about independence day – so i took the prompt on a more personal level. linking up with one shoot sunday, hosted today by the wonderful gay cannon

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23 responses to “in-dependence day

  1. I can relate to the fact you not being from the us my poem submitted is totally of course …. I liked yours a lot very deep write …thank you for sharing

  2. Beautiful poem. We also had our own celebration (Friday was Canada Day), and it is touching to see the flags everywhere. Though Canada is my adopted country, I share the sentiments everywhere of people celebrating freedom and independence.

    Love these lines best:
    i’m counting shots,
    calculating chokingly what it may take
    to really win when all the dies are cast

    Happy Sunday~

  3. There are some haunting images in this piece, Claudia. The first stanza is exquisite….ink-soaked wings… I also like the statement, “It’s the kind of death we’re dying daily.” The ending holds a surprise that uplifts the reader. Beautiful writing.

  4. You capture the cost of love and the price – whether personal or for a country. That price is hard to measure. Love the way you layer the meanings so carefully in every word – pulling dual and triple meanings from each. It is your precision with word use that makes you a better poet with each write. Excellent, dear Claudia.

  5. Your poem has a universal theme, Claudia. These words said it all for me:

    It is the kind of death we’re dying daily
    sometimes without sensing the decay…

    Thank you for a thoughtful piece.

  6. Independence is on so many levels Claudia and you write about it well. It is personal and hopefully one day a gift to all

    thanks!!!

  7. Some lovely images here, Claudia: “cradle of your breath”, “growing ink-soaked wings”.

    Like the word play in your title, too.

  8. “Snuggled in the cradle of your breath
    i’m growing ink-soaked wings;
    letters signed with blood and sweat,
    etched non-erosive in my heart…”

    Hi! Claudia…
    What a very beautiful poem…may even more so beautiful…because you placed it on a personal…level.

    Thanks, for sharing your very powerful words as “in-dependence day” is celebrated tomorrow.

    I too like your playing with the word [“in-dependence day”] or your word play [“in-dependence day”] as it appeared on my daily feed.

    deedee 🙂

  9. so many striking lines, Claudia! amazing imagery and your words convey the weight of the cost.

    “and in my hand the flames of hope”

    i love that line because i personally believe that if we can hold onto even a glimmer of hope, we can survive.

    another amazing poem! ♥

  10. I read it in a Universal sense, but it appealed to me as an American in that, like most other countries, we are going through painful, insecure times. For whatever reason, I felt like I was watching a parade of returning military or veterans. I was close to tears. Beautiful.

  11. I too love the word play in the title…I love word deconstruction for some reason.
    the whole first stanza is exquisite and engaging …the uncorosive blood and sweat letters…

  12. oooh Claudia, battles always seem to bring about the winds of change, don’t they… or maybe the other way around… and mine always seem to show me what I am dependant on… (the word play was so good).

    Today i chew my pen to pieces,
    watch the flags, weeping on halfmast–
    mourning, shaken by a changing wind

    You have such a gift Claudia. Thank you for sharing it with U.S. =)

  13. all the die having been cast…nice word play…and you did well on it…as to your thoughts over at my place, i can see that blow to national pride…it is overcomable though, and with the fall of the wall and as you continue on into the future i think you may see it…emotive write my friend…its good to be home..

  14. Claudia,
    This is truth-filled. Past all the rhetoric, flag-waving and wonderful community stuff, freedom is controlled from within, individually, uniquely. You exposed a bit of that.