Son of Guest Bloggery

Hello ladies and gents,
Today I have something very special for you- a peek at my friend Cooley’s brand new blog, A Window to a Hallway. Cooley lives in the Ozarks with his pet rabbit, Oreo. When he’s not writing, he plays entirely too much Santa Gragas on League of Legends.
I Threw My Heart Into a Wall

I threw my heart into a wall
or two. I threw it all around
the room, just hoping it would stick
somewhere. I threw it up
and down the stairs, and then
I threw it out
the window.

When I picked it up
outside, I tried to throw it in a tree
so tall that it would never land.
It did not understand. Oh, all
it ever does is fall.
When choosing a second poem from Cooley’s blog to post, I very nearly chose this or this, but instead I decided to post an anonymous poem Cooley has shared via his blog. Because I can pretend I wrote most of Cooley’s poems myself, but I’ve never been able to write anything that takes place too far outside my own skin without feeling like I’m probably wrong.
(Credit: An anonymous Syrian living in Tulsa)

Damascus asked me, How is Homs,
how is her smile?

I said
with tears between my words
here’s how she is…

Homs is a shining bride just in the prime of youth
and now a widow.

She is a baby girl who learns to walk
but will not know her parents.

Homs is a boy of six who asks
if Santa can bring freedom.

Homs washes for her prayers
with blood of martyrs.

She has been baptized
in this same blood.

In Homs, they wear their shrouds under their clothes
and they keep coffins by the door.

In Homs, one building shields another.
It rains in summer and the roses bloom in winter.

The dust of Homs is holy, and it has become
a pilgrimage for brave and honest.

She is prostrate now. A nun, an atheist, both on one pillow
stuffed with whispers of so many hopes.

Damascus, this is but the headline,
there is more to come…

but I believe
my Homs will persevere.

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