the stories that need telling fall clumsily
on trails where tributes lie in winding lanes
on cobbled streets of needle-darkened alleys
in shop doorways where sad stories lurch in pain
the stories to remember stumble onwards
resistance plied while truths they serve to give
truths that need the hearing and the telling
giving voice to thoughts of those who barely live
the stories that need telling cause much grieving
these stories they are mourned while others dance
on bloodied, bended knees scarred stories whimper
begging, fighting, pleading, one more chance
the stories we’ve forgotten haunt our dreamscapes
filling us with fear that those we love could be
a story on the corner there but for graces
someone’s child or parent, you or me
the stories sprawled on walls are unenchanting
apoetic in their prose and permanence
these monuments that matter, disassembled
the humblest stories lost to prominence
unhinged of wing they travel like their namesake
foiled phoenix burnt to ashes must reform
soul stories scattered, littered, on rough pavements
barred temples to the place where freedom’s born
the stories in retelling at the tables
where gathered poets present and from past
conserve the memories among the negatives
cave paintings whitewashed over sketched in last
hid among the amulets and tombstones
walking tourist trails or calvary
wounded hearts still beating where they perish
amid stories where condemned fought to be free
a cross upon the cobbles falls embarrassed
that liberty was won by their blood spilled
to keep the stories living, rising ever
that changed the route by courage and by will
the stories that need telling need new focus
perspective in the telling here and now
to those who write the stories worth the telling
the fallen, inglorious, tell us how
their stories find a purpose in narration
where nations find their dignity and poise
old stories sung, retold, with hush and reverence
need new stories magnified by many with one voice
the stories of the rising and the fallen
the stories of the families who yet weep
the stories of the falling mid the rising
such stories thus preserved that we may sleep
scottishmomus 