abba

perhaps even the split whistle
of a shell with innocent
names on it
could be Your voice
or eyes
gleaming in bits of
shrapnel
as he lay dying
peering upwards
in glistening refusal.

perhaps in hospice, where
last breaths were taken in
scattered memoirs unwritten,
save in hazy plateaus of regret
beneath scalps untouched
by love
You appear
genuflecting between the
borders of sleep, dream,
death

perhaps now as a body
loaded with bombs walks
through Your home
in an Israeli nightclub--
perhaps the Last Eucharist
breaks and between
the after, there,
You again hold the border
as You always will

About This Poem

About the Author

Comments

RSScheerer

17 years 11 months ago

Speechless

I saw this on the front page last night and wanted to read, but it was late and I knew it wouldn't get my full attention, which it definitely deserves. This gave me goosebumps each time I read it - and I've read it three times now. There is nothing in the mechanics of this piece to critique. I am so deeply touched by the emotional quality that my mind simply wants the opportunity to read it again. It is fantastic to see you posting again. Was this a new write? My best, Ronda

Quillsvein1

17 years 11 months ago

thank

you very much Rhonda. yeah, I actually wrote this last night. i'm surprised it strikes you with that power. i must be doing something right. best!

RSScheerer

17 years 11 months ago

Remember...

... all that upbringing lies dormant somewhere, waiting for something like this to bring it to the surface and say, "Yes! That's it!" Oh, and by the way, what have I told you about that "h" in my name? *grin* Best, Ronda

barbsdad2003

17 years 11 months ago

Oh, yes ...

you are doing something right ... all right, quite right, so right. Thanx, Chuck PS: Even though (too often) I fail to comment on your works, I am reading them. Thanx much.

Quillsvein1

17 years 11 months ago

i'm

i'm glad i brought it to the surface. next time i will do so without the "h" :). you rock.

infinite_dwarf

17 years 11 months ago

Quills

Will have to re-read back through this one, but I liked what I saw the first time around! Seems to be a pretty moving piece, and will have to visit again! ~Jess ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ~ "The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants." - Thomas Jefferson ~ "Tonight's forcast: dark, continued dark tonight, turning to partly light in the morning..." - George Carlin

weirdelf

17 years 11 months ago

aye there's the rub

your work is often so intense it is hard to reply at all. I hope you don't feel I have been ignoring you, my friend, other friends have also been neglected. As the site grows I fear it is becoming popularist, with serious, intense, often difficult poems being set aside while easier poems are addressed. I am guilty. The Catholic references in this piece don't bother me, it is so human. As all good people are, regardless of creed. The body loaded with bombs does. Is that person, including indocrtination and drugs, already a non human? I guess you have already answered that. Yes they are. They are amongst the victims. A fine and powerful work. If you do enter a seminary and become a priest I know you will be a good one. Superb writing. cheers, Jess

sumsum22

17 years 10 months ago

exquisite!

The poem is dark, but intensely powerful and full of emotion. There is something in your wording that just imprints upon ones mind, mine being one of them. I wish you luck in all of your work. Best, Bryan

Synchro

17 years 10 months ago

absolutely superb work.

Wish you would employ the basics of English, but otherwise it is terrific. You've built in me the desire to read much more. Yours in peace, (Cynthia McKinney for president) Synchro