The tell tale thud of certain and excruciating circular death
The air was sucked from the universe one missing breath after another
The smell of ozone and radiation intoxicated, clearing her mind
Mixed sharply with the taste of candied fear, poured from beautiful desperation
Ashes to ashes my father
Drink in the possibilities of fate
Loosen your grip on dear children
And do not temper justice out of emotional convention
She sat on the stoop, eyes closed and dreaming in harsh pastel colors
She devoured the emotional electricity of the city on the brink
A million children asking why, shut up and let me in quickly
Focus dear ones on the beauty of the still wired moment, conscious death
Ashes to ashes my father
Drink in the possibilities of fate
Loosen your grip on dear children
And do not waste precious energy in regret
As the invisible wave rolled on, feeding on primordial pain, quenching
She gathered the fear and locked it in momentary suspension and smiled
War is not real, not the way this universal speck has packaged it
She ate from the depth of the soul and its relationship to mother
Ashes to ashes my father
Drink in the possibilities of fate
Loosen your grip on dear children
Litter our hearts with a more precious understanding
With a whisper that thundered, she released her grasp and bowed her head
Sweet cacophony and unbridled epiphany filled the vacuous void
Pain shattered mid air and clattered to the clay in splendid shards of grace
And the pathetic ghosts of death danced lightly among her people, relieved
Ashes to ashes my father
Drink in the possibilities of fate
Loosen your grip on dear children
Let one be the voice of the many through telling eyes
Mother let the unrepentant tide of dysfunction starve completely
And hold me to your perfect breast until the morning has suckled wisdom
Brushing the hair of the fates, one hundred strokes with razor blade brushes
Allowing new growth and a look into the eyes of lucid understanding
Ashes to ashes my father…..
© 2011 Crowley
Wow... your poetry/prose is so deep. Full of real emotions and of what we as a world (in reality) almost seem now to be rushing so boldly into.
ReplyDeleteThere is so much in this that is awesome. I loved all of it but this:.
"with the taste of candied fear" struck a chord with me. Fear does have a taste, doesn't it.
Fabulous writing.
Yes, you can pack so many images and emotions and possibilities into your lines. This whole poem has a taste of fear: the cry to father, cry to mother, when nothing can save the children. That last stanza is so vividly felt: the hundred strokes with razor blade brushes is violently telling.
ReplyDeleteWhoa! What depth and vision, in a really impressive form........this poem is a mind-stretcher. The razor blade brush truck me, too. This is some serious writing. Very impressive.
ReplyDeletecripes, i could hardly get past this line: "do not temper justice out of emotional convention." this whole thing is so interesting and jarring and full, words to come back to, each time picking up on a different image, and taking lessons away. whoosh.
ReplyDelete[hey as an aside? it's very hard for me to read your words in that smaller serifed font. probably you need it for the form of this poem, but just letting you know. i have addled eyes that have a hard time with white on dark, but your usual font is okay. this one, challenging.]
Like razor blades themselves, these words, cutting into complacency and leaving it to bleed out. There's not a line here without a vivid and deft construction, forcing images into the brain--excellent poetry, and a scalding message. This should be published.
ReplyDeleteThe apocalypse has never been illustrated with more grace or skill. I love that she dreamed in harsh pastel colors as the end was nigh. I love that in the end, evidence was born of a new beginning. Masterful, this.
ReplyDeleteVery powerful and effective!
ReplyDeleteThis is stunning...wow, just wow! Very dark and oppressive, but still a tiny hint at the end that light will shine once more. An amazing piece of poetry!
ReplyDeletea in your last share, here too it is the intermingling of different voices that steals the show. and the lines themselves are poignant, profound and authentic that the whole feel is one of exhaustive overwhelming anguish.brilliantly done!
ReplyDeleteAdding my appreciation for this dynamite poem! Can't add anything significant to what has already been expressed.
ReplyDeleteDeep and imbued with layers of meaning. That intalicized refrain, running through the poem like a chorus in a song, effectively frames the work.
ReplyDeleteThis is magnificent...my words insufficient to describe it. You are the master of the repeated refrain.
ReplyDeleteThe structure, with its quatrains and refrains, give it the look and feel of a ballad, or perhaps something by Shelley or the young Yeats, but it's clearly a modern work. It's some pretty damn fine work.
ReplyDeleteI do agree there is much depth here. I like the format with the contrasting quatrains. It truly leaves me with much to think about.
ReplyDeleteThe refraining lines, weaving with her cries and desperation, are very effective. This is powerful and chilling post with the last stanza of razor blades still reverberating in my head ~
ReplyDeleteFeels like a ritual of cleansing, a prayer pleading for some mercy. I'm not sure if I got it, but still lots of details and carefully chosen words produces and draws vivid images and scenes. Thanks for sharing this poem.
ReplyDeleteChilling and evocative. So much to see here. I was especially taken by candied fear and the stil wired moment, every image in its perfection to its inevitable conclusion. A work of particular genius, my friend. Really.
ReplyDeleteThis is powerful. The language and images are fantastic. Zoweeeeee!
ReplyDelete