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Pandora's Box
.............
exhaustion surrounds
permeating her auric feild
like a blanket of thick smoke
retiring into the darkness of night
it is her solace and place of quietude
undaunted by earthly storms
the raging fires of voicy havoc
raucous misunderstandings
petty misgivings that cloud the path to clarity
slowly and calmly anesthetized
by the rise and fall of her chest
the inspiration of her breath
far into the depths of unconscious planes
dreaming of spatial incongruencies
distorted views of the day's events
slip into a place where they make more sense
awakened by a sound
a child weeping
baby soft skin broken by the remnants
of an ogre's shame and anguish
after dropping bombs on innocent women and children
abandoned by an angel of forgiveness
left in the scourge of suffering
accompanied by his own flesh and blood babies
one man's desperation
the cold war has been resurrected
a house of horrors comes alive
it is up to each one to survive
raw emotion pierces a hole
gnawing like lightning through the night
into the core of her soul
awakening with cries
but after 35 years
she is finally alive.
10:07 PM 7/3/2013
©
..............
baby soft skin broken by the
baby soft skin broken by the remnants
of an ogre's shame and anguish
after dropping bombs on innocent women and children
Odes of sadness !
Like.
Thank you, Muin. He'd rock
Thank you, Muin.
He'd rock me gently
Most every night
As she watched him from above,
Arms that once held guns so tight,
A nudge from life of what is right,
And lessons of what is love.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "