Sunday, September 11, 2011


In Commemoration— September 11, 2001 - 2011
By Stephen Cipot

Give me passion. Give me truth, and the dreams of youth.
Stone me. Starve me. Burn me, kill me, fling me down.
Tragedy, courage, and love, are rooted out of my soul.
Out of the day, out of the blue,
Disintegration of values, views, and hopes —
Whirled into a vortex, leaving a gaping hole.
Ashes for truth, and bones for freedom,
Nothing anyone would want to believe in.
A tangled madness below the ape on the way to oblivion.

One died a fireman,
One an airline passenger,
One a civil servant,
One a policewoman,
One an electrician,
One a janitor,
One a stock broker,
One a secretary;

So many names upon the wall, all have a voice.
When words cannot capture and flesh is too weak to speak,
Ply me with the creed of churches, temples,
Mosques and schools,
So that what I build will rise almost to heaven.

Every soul is a world of becoming,
And what destiny is, deeply connected to one another.
Freeing itself to eternity.
We touched the star where you vanished
With our outstretched beams of light in the night sky.
Unifying in harmony, the peace of Buddha,
Prayers of Jesus, dreams of Mohammed, thought of Plato,
Passion and civility of Dr. King,
Memory of the shtetl, poetry of Whitman,
Brought together in the crucible of a small urban space,
In these ashes are the fiercest unquenchable flames.

Friday, December 24, 2010

Merry Christmas!

A poem from Stephen Cipot, for all of us!


In praise of Heaven,

And the boundless inner sky guided by its light.

And of life in either realm

That knows the depth its love embraces.

A love that blooms in many faiths and languages.

It is winter here, and nearly always freezing.

The world is broken and moves stupidly on

After the fall,

An orb of water, wind, and stone,

It’s stones are cold under my feet.

I sing in praise of Heaven

And its supple endless song,

That shares its heartwarming promise with all.

A voice speaking straight out of my soul.

It’s not mine to give.

It’s not mine to give.

But I’m looking up and find myself flying.

A most beautiful thing!

Above the brilliant light of Heaven.

I never want to lose its secrets.

Dear Reader,

wishing you a Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a Happy and Peaceful New Year

Stephen Cipot

December 2010