National Poetry Month Day 28:”Telephone Pole” by Hadara Bar-Nadav


Telephone Pole

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Lightless beacon

who means the death
of green, its useless life.

Is my will to people?

war from house to house.

Chaos rips
through copper,

a haywire noose
tangled around my head.

I once held
the lips of a thousand

sleepy lovers
too far away to meet.

The world become
less strange.

Words for static
and soon.

Words for always
bitten in two.

Years of winter
splintered my throat.

The humming and
the humming.

Your missing
loves return to me

as ghosts with staples
in their mouths.

Drafty wings
on my wires notice me

only as a means
to solicit the sun.

When a man comes
with a drill, I am not

allowed to flinch
but the trembling

hasn’t stopped since
I was born.

– Hadara Bar-Nadav



Hadara Bar-Nadav is the author of Lullaby (with Exit Sign), awarded the Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize; The Frame Called Ruin, Runner Up for the Green Rose Prize from New Issues; and A Glass of Milk to Kiss Goodnight, awarded the Margie Book Prize. Her chapbook, Show Me Yours, was awarded the 2009 Midwest Poets Series Award. She is also co-author of the best-selling textbook Writing Poems, 8th Edition. Recent awards include fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. Hadara is currently Associate Professor of English at the University of Missouri-Kansas City.

Original poetry published by The Rumpus. More from this author →