Open Poetry #47 |
On The First Anniversary My Heart Finally Broke (a repost) |
icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
I still can hear the pipes sing Amazing Grace I hear them in my dreams I hear the screams every day, months of cadenced march out of the open pit mine of souls, all day long and through the night in and out of mind until my heart ran out of song. Today bells ring, performers sing and everybody's priests ask gods for treats. Each name a moment held in all solemnity on edge to slip into eternity; pomp and circumstance, a ceremony's tears and choking fears that this will mean an end to the beginning of the years we mark remembering the dead, the living dead whose names all run together labels on one giant blended bleeding soul. If one more plastic politician says, ‘Let's roll,' I think I will be sick. The dead can sleep, where is the peace of heart and soul that could bring quiet to the living? We mourned a year. We buried buttons and a watch, a rock, handfuls of dirt and ash, a shoe or two, some bone fragments, photographs in empty caskets, memories in sleepless nights full of empty arms and empty beds tears in empty hearts. It's time to leave the past. For some, we become as Death in a time to stalk revenge cold and crafted with precision in deserts, fields and mountains, where we are hated for existing, where gods are left with questions, where evil breeds in men. So, there are no answers and so, the killings never end. There is no grief beyond the love of that which death can steal. There is no deal to make, no memorial to shake the horror of the memories, the smell the taste of human ashes mixed with fuel melted steel vaporized concrete grit that clogged our eyes, a blessing in disguise; the shame of hoping winds would change, the dream's there every day, turn back and turn away run, no where to go, who died when there is nothing left to hold but memories of clouds thick choking terror floating in toxic air so full that vision's lost, sounds of bodies hitting ground just beyond the reach of sight within the sounds, the claws of fright, no where to hide. No where to hide. ©2003, 2005, 2006, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011 by icebox (written, September 11, 2002; edited as above) |
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© Copyright 2011 icebox - All Rights Reserved | |||
Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
And this is where my thoughts have been. Thank you for bringing this back, Sir. |
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Alison
since 2008-01-27
Posts 9318Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy! |
I, too, thank you for bringing this one back. I keep coming back to read it - may I save it, please? Alison |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
It is a masterpiece, dear Charly, and always brings shivers anew .... nowhere to hide! Love, Margherita |
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ice Member Elite
since 2003-05-17
Posts 3404Pennsylvania |
Captain icebox: I stand and applaud..a salute sir! Grand poetry, on a hard theme. "There is no grief beyond the love of that which death can steal." Those two lines, to me, are the most profound in the poem. They should be on all quote sites.. under the heading "love and death" Thank you for the poem.. |
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
I haven't read it and I am happy you decided to repost it, Icebox. Stunning poetry. Even without poems such as these I know I will never forget that day. But these poems, and especially this one, sharpen the edges of memory. Thank you. ~ I went to a restaurant that serves "breakfast at any time" / I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance. ~ |
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