Skip to main content

Rolling Back to Base or Singing Pink Floyd in the Back of a Deuce and a Half

Forgotten, in a wonderful world
That smells of burning garbage,
Cordite and viscera.

The quiet din of a bleak and tired man,
Softly rises;
    “So, so you think you can tell…”.

Before he even conjures the words;
    “Heaven from hell”,
It crescendos wickedly to a full choir
Of cadence-strong voices;
Flippant and cock-sure.

Eyes wide and mean,
We roll through hell
In harmony.
Jubilant, we chime at the top of our voice,
      “How! How I wish you were here!”

We never truly did wish any one
Into our hell.
Only that they knew of us, here.
In this wonderful world. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The man in the hunter moon

I caught him this morning As he slipped past the glass ribbon Just as the lights were coming on. I caught him tip-toed Peeking back over the fence Ruddy faced and embarrassed. He flashed me a wink Knowing I won’t catch him again At least before next October.
Post a Comment
Read more

Chocolate Pudding

I remember this one thing. She had prepared a treat, Instant pudding and Cool Whip Placed in dinnerware. Gathered on a platter, Parental, familial, domestic inspiration From a Good Housekeeping spread. “Quick treats for the loved ones in your life.” The presentation alone, Made the simple victuals, Seem luxurious and fine To a child. But, that’s not the thing I remember. It was the strange curiosity I felt. The lack of excuse, need, Or celebratory affair. The random event, so poignantly void of obligation, And presented to us With a white hot glow of lunacy and glee, Never seen before (and never seen again). My imagination vacillates on the etiology Of her sudden, abrupt, and unusual behavior; Maniacal rush of joy? Too much Mother's Little Helper? Spite for my father? The zenith of effort to effuse love? This was one of the greatest outward expressions of love My mother had; Culminating in 5 minutes of mixing milk and powder And placed in dainty dishes. I ate the pudding With ...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Phonetics of Love

“I love you.” You , referring to you. “…too.” ..., Referring to me. You never say the word “you”. “You” has not been remunerated In the sense that love has a value. Maybe I still need to earn it. For now, “You” as referring to me, Has been replaced with the schwa. It’s that upside down e you see in  the dictionary to know how to pronounce words. But, more precisely, in this case, It’s a mid-central rounded vowel. Like the sound you hear At the end of the word “pencil”. On the cloudier days, I’ve even been replaced With no sound at all. Instead, I am an initial unaspirated glottal stop. It’s the silent pause that we all make Before we start a sentence That begins with a vowel. One day I hope for the full “I love you.” But, that may have to wait. Because right now, Apparently, I am not worth the effort, To get all of “You”.
Post a Comment
Read more