Silent Parade — A Poem by Heath Brougher

Nov 24, 2019

All the way from the White Rose City of Pennsylvania, Heath Brougher brings us this poem that drifts between transience and transcendence to awaken a new understanding of what it means to be in the world and of the world.

All the way from the White Rose City of Pennsylvania, Heath Brougher brings us this poem that drifts between transience and transcendence to awaken a new understanding of what it means to be in the world and of the world.

Silent Parade

I will be a cloud in due time.
One day, long after my viscera 
has been lulled to dust and laid
into the land, a random breeze will
scoop up the dirt I am made of 
and ingest my formal Sentience 
into the guts of a wind which will then
raise it high into the sky to be absorbed
into a cloud—and then—finally—these elements
will find themselves as one before being torn apart
again by the omnipresent stamp of The End
that tailgates all of Life. For a brief instant,
though, that cloud and I will be as one.

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About the Contributor

Heath Brougher received the 2018 Poet of the Year Award from Taj Mahal Review and is a multiple nominee for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Award. He is the poetry editor for Into the Void, winner of the 2017 and 2018 Awards for Best Magazine. He has published 6 collections of poetry, most recently "To Burn in Torturous Algorithms" (2018, Weasel Press) and "The Ethnosphere's Duality" (Cyberwit.Net, 2018). His work can also be found in such journals as The Wagon Magazine, Chiron Review, MiPOesias, Ethos Literary Journal, Main Street Rag, Setu Bilignual, BlazeVOX, and elsewhere.

Knowledge is like Teher.
A handful of cooked rice
a humble offering
to ward off the grief
from an entire century.
Whosoever receives Teher
does so with blessings
and well wishes.
Today the T in Teher
is the T in Taaleem
just as the K in Kashmir
is the K in your name.
From Teōtīhuacān to Tral
we make a humble offering.

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