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Open Poetry #32
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Professor Gloom
Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082
of Depression

0 posted 2004-06-01 09:15 AM


The stage is bare, but for a single chair,
it is bathed in light, on the right; the other side is left to shadow
The chair is empty in the center of the light,
A cloaked and hooded figure walks by the chair
And talks there by the edge of the darkness


Beyond which step, length doesn’t matter,
T’is the last step, into the shadow,
Beyond the soul, raw spirits shatter,
T’is a lost soul, casting to fallow.

Exit Figure One, enter stage left Figure Two
From inside the dark edge, Quietly at first a female voice.


What step was it that cast me here,
Living yet no longer feeling my fear,
Or anything, length doesn’t matter;
Doing the enduring evermore
No longer caring about the rich and poor,
My reality, through regular injections does shatter.

Stepping into the light, just to turn and return to the shadow side

This shadow, in fertile fallow,
Where a fantasy foul wallow,
This shadow, that poisons no longer choke,
T’is a lost soul that spirits can no longer provoke.

Exit Figure Two
Enter Figure Three Stage right, man in a business suit, sits in chair.
Enter Bus driver Stage left, with chair, opens it placing it ahead of the chair that’s there,
Sits and begins to drive,
Enter Figure Four Stage right, dressed casual comes with two chairs,
Places one beside Figure three, and one behind, sits in the one behind


Bus Driver:
Roads upon roads, I take thee riding,
To which ever destiny you’d be abiding.

Figure three stands, moves forward to the Driver, then away.
Figure Four collects the three chairs, and Exits stage left,
Bus Drive takes his chair and Exits Stage left.


These thoughts assails my thinking
The yesterday that I didn’t really want to be in,
Those events were too many
I looked for a way to help but there wasn’t any,
The event thoughts keep returning
I try to think around the past emotional burning
Trying to be more positive,
And not too worrisome of how you’ve come to live,
To accept things for how they are
For things have progressed and progressed far
And all my thoughts don’t matter
While the situation slowly becomes sadder.

This life assails my living,
Where concrete and asphalt make the land,
A place of take and take, not giving,
But meager bread crumbs and the slap of the hand.
Where repetition of similar days
Machine guns itself deep into my misted mind,
Scrambling the future with gray yesterdays
So is this a new day with hopes and future?
Or another yesterday of mediocre torture

Exit stage right

Gloom



© Copyright 2004 Aszard Drazlom - All Rights Reserved
iliana
Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434
USA
1 posted 2004-06-01 10:58 AM


Oh my gosh, Professor -- this one certainly has a life of its own!  It was very unique -- also hauntingly sad.  And, definitely Gloomy.   ....jo
ThisDiamond
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-02-22
Posts 9353
Michigan, USA
2 posted 2004-06-01 10:59 AM


In a deluge of smoke...the spirit calls back
sending sunshine to the abyss, and behold...
rocks and streams

Intense Gloom

passing shadows
Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577
displaced
3 posted 2004-06-01 11:54 AM


gawd! wow!
Professor Gloom
Member Elite
since 2000-07-23
Posts 3082
of Depression
4 posted 2004-06-01 02:32 PM



Thank you, ilana,
Pleased you liked this bit of a play,
Not sure how much life it has,
Perhaps it has a death of it’s own?

Thank you, ThisDiamond
You honor me with your words,
Intensity is part of my make-up
Rubbed in hard till it dulls the eyes and glosses the bone.

Thank you, passing shadows

Gloom

Susan Caldwell
Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348
Florida
5 posted 2004-06-01 03:20 PM


"This life assails my living"

Amen.

"cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind"
~Sarah McLachlan~

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