Cursed

[dr_con]

Cursed

 

I hope she enjoys cleaning up

your bleed-out when it happens

Nasty children fighting for who is

higher on the jungle gym while birds

and ants and frogs and spiders stalk

unnoticed in the air beneath toes moist

boundaries and forgotten trails between

 

life and death a riotous innocence twisted

into petty gods self serving demons who

want to be liked kicking sand and soil

declaring the whole lot to be cursed

without value infested with snakes

threatening poison and fangs

 

While the miracle of sun earth stars spirals

inside and out a thunderous silence

mocking these hollow gratitudes

of flesh and what it loves.

[David W. Parsley]

Hi dr_con, I particularly like the last two stanzas, while confessing that any adjective to silence is in danger of sounding a little trite. The opening two lines throw me, every time I go over the piece, and all those ants and frogs don't help pick me back up. But the overall sense of childhood games and innocence coexistent with happenings that prefigure and already shape darker urges and all-too-adult hierarchies, approaching pitch of cosmic order - chilling picture well done.

 

- Dave

[Benjamin]

As I read this over, it provoked the picture of an ethereal hand scooping up fine sand of human priorities; examining them as they sifted through dry fingers that point to the vastness of creation. Benjamin

[rosschandler]

nice imagery.