Showing posts with label american tragedy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label american tragedy. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

Glass Of Darkness

  

 

 
 
Glass Of Darkness
 
 
 
I see the tall glass of darkness
putting out a pot of cinders and ash
where too many cooks have spoiled
the serenade, sweet high song
of sun's guilt evening
to the kicking horse
that must be shot
before it can be free.
 
I sing along, blind in
this bare attic, but every note
that jumps in my throat
lies, dropping bloodless on the
broken map where cities blur
like stars whose cream light curdles
in a dead sky of greysmoke ghosts;
where nothing is ever free.

But I can't stop.
They say every skull will sing
if the wind blows
just right.




January 2025
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
posted for Word Garden Word List
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Images:San Francisco, 1906 post-earthquake © The Atlantic, archives
The Penitent Magdelen ca 1640, Georges De La Tour     Public Domain
 
 

Saturday, November 14, 2020

End Times Redux

 

 


 
 
End Times Redux
 
 
There's always been
only one end
to a skull run against
a wall of stone,
always a single truth against
 an outnumbering of fools,
 
always ears stopped to
the pulse-drum beating fear,
the microphone vomiting
all the glory lies. Reason's light
is not blown out no matter
how many choose to sit in darkness.

It's always been coming again,
this over-heat in the system;
where the sovereign goes mad
bashing skulls
in Punch and Judy shows,
stuffed with his own sawdust failures.
 
Our love is the ink with which
over and over
we scrawl these wartime sagas,
the spilled blood 
from which the Resistance
 always rises.
 
 
 


November 2020
 
 
 
 
 
 
Allegedly the last picture of Adolf Hitler before he committed suicide on . Hitler (right) and his adjutant Julius Schaub looking at the ruins of the Reich chancellery, April 28, 1945.
                              

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
posted for the inimitable Fireblossom
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Images: top, author unknown, via internet, Fair Use
Bottom: image 1:Ditto;Allegedly the last picture of Adolf Hitler before he committed suicide. Hitler (right) and his adjutant Julius Schaub looking at the ruins of the Reich chancellery, April 28, 1945.
Image 2: Trump returning to White House after election projected for Biden. ©AP Fair Use


Sunday, October 11, 2020

Surrender

 



Surrender

"...this is the way the world ends/not with a bang but a whimper." ~T.S.Elliot

 

 

You've come a long way

to see me slip my skin

across the star-burrowed sky

past Cassiopeia's iron chair

past the spear of Orion

to the killing floor.

 

You've come for the show

that must always go on

to see my hair burning trees

on my lips the black hole

night for my breath

dripping acid rain.

 

A big bang for your buck

now the requisite whimper

that comes in the dark

with the last surrender.

I wanted to stay just

a little bit longer

 

but everything wavers

when fate breaks her lamp.


October 2020







posted for 

The Sunday Muse








Images: California Wildfires From Space © NASA Scott Kelly Fair Use

Title unknown © Mathew Brohder via Internet Fair Use


Friday, July 31, 2020

Friday Flash 55 For July 2020






Welcome once again to the 55, all. It has been an eventful month, and also a month mired in chaos and distemper. This weekend we get together to add our words to the ongoing pile of all our laments and celebrations, in the form of 55 words, no more, no less. We also do it to remember Galen Hayes, the originator of this meme, as we continue to miss his ever-humorous and supportive presence, as we do all the kickass weekends that seem so long ago. 

The rules are unchanged--set down your thoughts in a poem, piece of flash fiction or prose poetry on any subject, in exactly 55 words. 
Post the url of the result in the comments below and I will be by to read the result.For those to whom words are coming with difficulty, your absence is forgiven from the heart.

The 55 begins at  Thursday midnight and will last til Sunday at 4:00 PM CST.

~*~

Here is my own effort







July in America



The tune that plays tonight
I cannot carry.
 Voice
cracks while sirens
 robot-howl it
clearer, louder:
the ape-rebooted's song
of darkness
coming.

July's made 
of screams 
and broken light, of
cloudy poison rising, eyes
shucked oysters
poached in acid tides.
Stars fall dim,
 rimmed
with bleeding innocence;

 this copper-salt rain 
will never wash 
us clean.



July 2020





















Images: Tear Gas in Portland, Oregon  Getty Images  Fair Use
Untitled , © ZdzisÅ‚aw BeksiÅ„ski   Fair Use




 





Saturday, April 18, 2020

Giant's Blood





Giant's Blood


"In my medicine cabinet
the winter fly
Has died of old age" ~Jack Kerouac



Alone
the tired giant sat
looking at America;
no light but Edison's stars,
no song but subways' caterwaul
in the emptiness of time
that made him small.

Bored
he decided America
was constipated. He invented
a purgative of darkness and fireworks, 
administered every night, 
and in his ennui
took most of it himself.

Restless
he rolled, up and down
the endless ribbon that was
 two thirds the mark of the beast,
til the road ran him down
and went on, its
 pockets full.

Dying
he covered the
spliced paper continuum
til  the page flapped out. He saw
the medicine he'd swallowed
was his own black blood,
while America 

was just exactly
what it seemed.



April 2020


 





posted for
hosted by the inimitable Fireblossom











Process Notes: Kerouac's great novel On The Road was written in one continuous burst. "Before beginning, Kerouac cut sheets of tracing paper into long strips, wide enough for a typewriter, and taped them together into a 120-foot-long roll which he then fed into the machine. This allowed him to type continuously without the interruption of reloading pages. The resulting manuscript contained no chapter or paragraph breaks...
..On the morning of October 20, 1969, in St. Petersburg, Florida, Kerouac was working on a book about his father's print shop. He suddenly felt nauseated and ..began to vomit blood. Kerouac was taken to St. Anthony's Hospital, suffering from an esophageal hemorrhage...He..died at the hospital at 5:15 the following morning, at the age of 47. His cause of death was listed as an internal hemorrhage..caused by cirrhosis, the result of longtime alcohol abuse." ~ wikipedia






Images via internet, authors unknown.  Fair Use