Writing a Cripple's War Draft Of Eventuality (January 20, 2012. Issue 34.)
Bang
bang
broken
glass in the eye it goes, and
darkness follows for eternity.
Before the darkness there
was light, a house, windows
clouded by dust and
grime of neglect.
In the middle of the living room,
without living, sat a turned over
table grey and arabbed, the couch
warped with age, the fireplace
smoldering with a fire not made
from wood and flint.
The night was cold,
a place to stay was a necessity
to hide from the guns and fire and death.
A fire made from that death was made in fire
was placed a signal from help
that only led to the dark.
Rolled into corners for warmth
away from cold sand that filled everything
with its grime that would mean a grim
glass mixed with flame. The fire brought
misfortune bringing the darkness of the
eyeballs that lacked purpose as tho from
warring peoples with purposes that
shouldn't have mattered to the divine.
Screams were heard but only after the bells
stopped ringing with a hunched back pulling
on ropes with the strength of 500 men and 3 horses.
The screams in the dark were those of a blind
man whose face was marred by war and fire,
glass & grime in a grave that was not home.
The coarse red never seen again yet always seen
in holes of mirrors that showed pictures
of a working walnut.
The mirrors are there but they are cracked
and smashed in places, one beyond repair,
the others stuffed with shards that aren't
part of the right kind of mirror.
Those pieces can't be used to fit those mirrors
the fired glass isn't the same and the darkness
is endless.
There was nothing anymore,
the rainbow laughs at the blind
a smile of the world
that taunts the endless
broken mirrors until anger
overtakes and more mirrors break.
The moon too laughs at the sightless
with its in-audible mouth
that dares to live without air to breathe.
But one day the shards are plucked free
with gushes of head red fluid
that is always near without being seen.
One mirror is left
and from there things look flat and grey
lacking color in the old static
that threatens the inevitable. |