We Aren't Ever Going Home (repost for all who remember and all who can forget)

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icebox
Member Elite

since 2003-05-03

Posts 4383
in the shadows

0 posted 2011-05-30 02:49 PM

It is cold here
in an endless night,
easy to forget
a jungle is a desert with too much rain,
lonely now
too much awareness
from inner plains of memory,
too little pain
for all that happened,
it could be said it should hurt more
to be dead so far from home;

fear too is cold,
and in passing from all needs of life
I thought we would leave fear,
crushing weight of knowing
we weren't leaving here in any way that could be understood;

quiet now,
not like endless tearing moments of fire and steel,
I remember
how what I thought was real became a child's dream;

running,
thinking I could hide anywhere inside this shadowed valley
where we died as we were busy killing for no reason
but for rage at being killed,
at least no reason that survived;

we are waiting,
friends and enemies,
each quiet with our own separate agenda,
some around me I have recognized across what must be years
since jungle has returned,
and there are trees where I once stood
on blasted ruined ground
mixed out of ashes,
mud,
debris and blood,
shadow memories of fire's
licking tongues without heat,
soft recall of madness
in this waking dream through which I pass
awaiting understanding that may take me out of here,
at last;

cold,
so very cold,
sun's heat passes through me without stopping.

I believe
one day I will leave behind this place of green horror
forgotten honor fertilized with death,
where nothing was resolved,
nothing lasting was attained,
where our blood is slowly washed away
every time it rains.

©2004, revised 2008, 2009, 2011 by icebox

Martie

Moderator

Member Empyrean

since 1999-09-21

Posts 28049
California

1 posted 2011-05-30 03:26 PM

Charly...I remember the sad litany of these special words.

Brian James
Member

since 2005-06-26

Posts 147
Winnipeg

2 posted 2011-05-30 03:53 PM

"A jungle is a desert with too much rain."

A challenging and obscure poem, Icebox. Powerful and terrifying like a nightmare. It reads like madness sprung spontaneously out of wisdom. I felt a little bit of your fear.

A dark, sublime poem. Very good reading. Thank you.

Brian

"To me, the thing that art does for life is to clean it, to strip it to form."
~Robert Frost

Marchmadness
Member Rara Avis

since 2007-09-16

Posts 9271
So. El Monte, California

3 posted 2011-05-30 04:02 PM

A profound and complicated read, Mr. Ice. Goes deep. Just my cup of tea.
Ida

Margherita
Member Seraphic

since 2003-02-08

Posts 22236
Eternity

4 posted 2011-05-31 12:16 PM

Impossible to forget, also because there is a Poet like you who prevents us from forgetting with words that imprint themselves upon our minds and hearts ...

Thank you for this masterfully written piece.

Love and peace.
Margherita

easy1
Senior Member

since 2010-05-22

Posts 1209
Southeastern USA

5 posted 2011-06-03 08:45 AM

There is nothing obscure about it. When idiots try to kill you, you remember it, even after the heat is gone from the flashes. When you are betrayed, you remember it.

One does the best one can, though the injustice be ongoingly refreshed or not. A good read there... In so many ways I cannot go home again, either, so I sympathize.

http://cassandra.askdefine.com/

Paul Wilson

Member Elite

since 2002-07-07

Posts 4711
United States

6 posted 2011-06-03 10:45 AM

icebox...This leaves me speachless, but full of memories of how it was for those that served and gave all...Paul

~~To share my poems with you is to share my heart with you~~
Paul

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-16

Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

7 posted 2011-06-03 06:13 PM

Fine writing...James

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean

since 2000-02-02

Posts 27738

8 posted 2011-06-03 11:56 PM

Sometimes I feel like every thing after expulsion from the womb is recuperative therapy.

And fruitless at that.

My we are both in very spitty moods these days, huh?

love you, C.

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