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Open Poetry #48
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Wasteland
| Open Poetry #48 |
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Wasteland |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California 
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Wasteland The poet wanders his wasteland Still hearing voices of the damned, No more trying to straddle fence Of that nemesis, Consequence. While fat condor flies in from east To pick the bones of long dead beasts, Who ravaged palace long before This vulture set down at its core. He sits down at the garden gate Where he was introduced to Fate— Contents himself with gentle sigh To reminisce a past goodbye... To linger, like a ghost long dead Of echoes still heard in his head That, like that buzzard, dark and grim, Still gather here to look at him. Not knowing what tomorrow brings, It's here the shadow for him sings. Like the condor, ugly— dejected, It's here he finds himself protected. But the talon no match for wit, He lets the starving bird just sit And stare at him with gawking eyes That never see their own demise. His pity mixes with disgust, Watching that life form swallow dust— Regurgitate its woeful stance That surely once was prideful prance. But stubborn being what it is To a bird thinking this place his, He wonders, should he just sit by This wretched beast that just won't fly... From tarnished grounds that once enticed Memories much more highly priced. He sees clearly, now, in his head, This thing just doesn't know it's dead... Still, of all things held close to heart, What more precious is there than art? ...Asks himself, trying to forgive, "Being mortal, what is it to live?" Michael Anderson Death's but a path that must be trod, If man would ever pass to God. Thomas Parnell [This message has been edited by Michael (10-26-2013 06:27 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2012 Michael Anderson - All Rights Reserved | |||
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JerryPat2 Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975South Louisiana |
Questions and rebuttals and more questions. Seeking answers where there may not be answers, but still, answers are sought. As always, Michael, this is uniquely you. ~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~ |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
Your poems remind me of Edgar Allan Poe. one of my favorite poets, Michael. Ida |
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jwesley Member Rara Avis
since 2000-04-30
Posts 7563Spring, Texas |
Hmmm, gonna have to think about this one a little, but, as usual, enjoy reading your words. j. |
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Pilgrimage Member Elite
since 2001-12-04
Posts 3945Texas, USA |
I like the play with 'nemesis/consequence'. That's the most effective part of the poem for me. I didn't care for the bit with 'regurgitate'--not so much because the word is unpleasant, though it is, but because I don't know how you regurgitate a stance. Taken all together though, this is a thought-provoking, and ultimately saddening, poem. Nan (Pilgrim variety) |
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Michael
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-13
Posts 7666California |
There are always answers, Jer, sometimes they’re unrealized… sometimes they’re unsought altogether by the less ambitious, but there are always answers. But here’s the real question(s). Why was the question being asked in the first place? Did the one asking actually need the answer, or was he perhaps doing the asking for the benefit of some poor creature which would never arrive at the question on his own merit? Just more food for the blender I suppose.  Ida, that’s quite a compliment. Thank you so much. Jwesley, glad to get the wheels churning there. Pilgrimage, I had to laugh when I read your response… “but because I don't know how you regurgitate a stance.” All I could see in my head when I read that was Clinton saying “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” If he didn’t regurgitate that stance on his own, the press sure did a good job of it for him. Just for the record, one of the definitions of regurgitation is: to repeat after memorization. That does not have to just be words, it can be actions, or defense mechanisms and/or behaviors. Glad you enjoyed the poem on the whole. Michael |
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