Andrea W. Doray

Three poems

Justice Sleeps
 
On the Peace Monument, erected 1877, Washington, D.C.:
A sepulchral study of classical figures in marble

Grief weeps on the shoulder of History
            and Justice sleeps through the day, the night.

Mercy is less than marbled misery
           when Grief weeps on the shoulder of History.

As Truth and Hope strive for victory,
           the polished torch of Peace is starved for light,

while Grief weeps on the shoulder of History
           and Justice sleeps through the day, the night.
 
 
On Relief Rhythms, Robert Delaunay: 
Dusk, oil, and plaster on canvas, 1932

Grief and Mercy watch each other, wait
for Justice to awaken. Disks of dusk
and oil float, water and plaster negate,
as Grief and Mercy eye the other, wait.
***
Truth and History bow to fate,
Relief retreats to masonite dust.
Grief and Mercy comfort each other, wait
for Justice to awaken from the dusk.
 
 
On the headstones at Fort Logan National Cemetery:
Heartbreak and flowers permitted

Truth and History stand with Grief
           in ranks of white across the lawn,
                      and Mercy weeps in disbelief
                                 that Truth and History stand with Grief.
                                            If Justice found a place to sleep,
                                                       then Grace must struggle for the dawn,
                                                                  while Truth and History stand with Grief
                                                                             in ranks of white across the lawn.
 

In the 2011 Arab Spring protests, social media networks played an important role in the disintegration
of at least two regimes, Tunisia and Egypt.
                                        —PONARS Eurasia Policy Memo No. 159, May 2011 
 
Jasmine, Blogging
                      —for Mohamed Bouazizi, whose 2010 self-immolation in Tunisia 
                         was a catalyst for the Arab Spring
 
 What were you thinking, Habibi, from your side of the sea?
You’ve been all over on the BBC.
            I website search from my blackened perch.
 
 
To escape your soiled noisy street, you ignited sparks of human heat,
quiet, tidy, and discreet.
            My profile spirals, my posts go viral.
 
 You’re censored but receiving raves (so long as everyone behaves),
a lexicon of light in waves.
            Let me Twitter share your Facebook fare.
 
 When dissidents become this vocal, governments turn antisocial.
Revolutions should stay local.
            The world is next … I sent the text.
 


 Supplication 
 
 
God, there’s a warrant for Your arrest—
this free-will plan, was that Your best?
 
Where do You go when You want to flee
these crimes of our humanity?
 
Before this indictment of the Divine,
can You share with us one final sign?
 
Are we condemned to what You’ve sown
from heaven or hell or wherever You’ve gone?
 

Andrea W. Doray is an award-winning journalist, poet, and essayist whose writing has appeared in previous issues of DoveTales and in other literary journals, as well as in publications such as The Denver Post, Denver, Colorado, USA. Doray advocates for free speech, freedom of the press, and funny stories.

 

 


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