Vox Populi
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Michael Simms: Ishmael
I’m not prepared to measure grief
like grains of darkness
Who suffers more?
The man who sits in the rubble of his home
weeping for his wife
or the grandmother who walks by
holding a broken doll?
The night sky is filled with menace
Tanks roll by at dawn
Who can measure sorrow?
Where is the boundary of mercy?
Which child is not ours?
Copyright 2023 Michael Simms
Michael Simms is the founding editor of Vox Populi. His poetry collections include Strange Meadowlark (Ragged Sky 2023).
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“Which child is not ours?”
Catches in my throat and my heart.
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Yes, me too.
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Fetal, damn spellcheck
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Michael, This poem will go viral. Its sorrows are pitch perfect for the sorrows of our moment. This one punched me right in the gut and I’m still gasping for breath.
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Thanks, Bob. This poem came very quickly. It seemed like it needed to be written.
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❤️💔no words.
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Thanks, Ellen. Me too.
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Such truth in this poem, as always, Michael.
Like Lucille Clifton’s last line in her poem “the times”:
“these too are your children this too is your child” 😭
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Thanks, Lisa. I love Lucille Clifton’s poetry, but I don’t remember that poem. I’ll have to go back and read it.
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Michael, this is quite powerful using few words. I always admire that skill!
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Thank you, Deborah!
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Beautiful, Mike! Wrenching…
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Thanks, Syd.
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Michael, I love this poem. Maybe it is the season, maybe it is the wars we are in, maybe it is the time of life I am entering, but this one took hold and wouldn’t let go. Thanks!
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Thank you, Jo. This poem came quickly and easily. I guess I needed to say it.
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I love the timeliness of this poem. And the timelessness. “The boundary of mercy” perhaps thrown up with the very first fence.
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Thanks, Matt. This poem could have been written about many wars: Vietnam, Korea, El Salvador, Ukraine….
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Thank you for your poem, Mike, and for the Kristof essay. If we considered all the children to be ours, we would not manufacture and supply bombs to kill them. They are, instead, sacrificial lambs.
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Oh my, yes. Thanks, Charles.
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Thanks for this.
joanne
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I wish it weren’t necessary to talk about killing children.
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“I’m not prepared to measure grief.”
Measuring, comparing, judging: the first steps toward “othering,” toward setting up borders in our hearts.
Thank you, Michael, for opening us wide.
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Thank you for listening.
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Beautiful. Painful.
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Seeing images of the children of Gaza causes my chest to hurt.
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I find myself curling into the feral position and mindlessly scrolling. Not writing.
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Oh, Barbara.
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More than moving, Michael, and this beautifully illustrates how in poetry sometimes a little is a lot.
George
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thanks, George.
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More than moving, Michael—and beautifully illustrates that in poetry sometimes a little is a lot.
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Cannot stop the tears after reading this more than poignant, heartrending poem. Each day brings more grief and you captured it so well, Michael.
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Thanks, Katherine.
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Love this poem, Michael!! Sending blessings to you and your family! Mary E. Martin ________________________________
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Blessings to you as well, my friend.
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My heart hurts reading this.
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Thanks, Bren. Mine too.
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powerful poem.
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Thanks, Jason!
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Oh yes, Michael…excellent. I recently heard an interview with someone commenting on Gaza/Israel who said (and I’m paraphrasing)…”When we begin to value the life of an Israeli child over the value of a Palestinian child, we become the monster we said we hate.
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Thanks, Mel. I admire your commitment to peace and justice.
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yes and yes and dear God, yes
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Thank you, Margo.
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Impressive.
I felt it
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Thank you, Saleh!
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Impressive.
I felt it.
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‘Which child is not ours?’ – a strong, poignant five-word ending that says it all. And more. Thank you.
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Thank you, Jackie!
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Michael, thank you. This poem touches every part of me. All children are ours, every child deserves a safe home, enough food, calm parents, a yard to play in – no matter what side of the border they are born on. Your poem is truth – for me anyway.
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Thank you, Noelle. I feel words are inadequate in the face of horror, but words are all I have.
M
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I’ll take words and loving arms over weapons and killing every moment of every day. Your words are fine.
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This is great!
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Thank you, Eileen. I’ve been an anti-war activist for over 50 years, and I can’t believe I’m still having to protest this shite.
M.
M.
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Thank you for this poem, Michael. It is extremely powerful in its brevity and in the questions it asks but does not/cannot answer.
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Thank you, David. I admire your honesty, compassion and integrity.
M.
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