Tuesday, January 11, 2011

trenched in warfare, ex vi termini

for Vera….

I hope someday you find the air to breathe again
I call upon the empty space you walk again
This fear inside will wither painlessly away my friend
Get up, be free and spread your wings, then count to ten.

Cause fear is cold and never far
It’s tragedy that appears organic
As wavy flags darken
And so the moon darkens
We lose all trust and panic

I try to water broken flowers but it’s too late
They anger me and so I hurl them through the gate
As pedals rip in pieces which infuriate
To which I count to ten, lean forward, anticipate.

I sense the cold, she’s never far
Death, tragic, yet appearing organic
All shredded flags burn
Eclipse, this moon darkens
Infectious and so non-dramatic.

I found the bird. It would not fly and choose to live ashore
The empty grass you’ve walked upon is land you love no more
This riverbed has dried to sand and arid to the core
You’ve flown across this widespread cove but never as before.

We meet, she cries into a jar
Her words seem so prophetic
This love is suicidal pain
A love I shall never repeat again
As this martyr becomes a relic.

2 comments:

veraicon reality said...

I'm speachless, for several reasons. I will write back why. i feel lighter today.

Harry Merkin said...

You should only write when you feel the need to devour the world.