Saturday, November 28, 2015


When I feel the amber marble and I rub it on my flesh:
When I kiss the black abyss then I'll know it tattered mesh.

All along the rocks are jagged, all across the whited land.
And the many pebbles' havoc reek and reel this furrowed mess.

Reek and reel with unknown panic; reek and reel with slithered bash.
Reek and reel with monstrous manic; peak and peal with untold crash.

Yes, I know the metered language and I know it's forced, you see.
Yet, I have to hear the heartbeat, and you'll see the imagery.

When you smell the yellow marble:  and you throw it to the floor.
When you hear the muffled garble, then you'll know its tattooed roar.

Bleeding red and all around they're crying out in slivered pain.
Crying out like little children while the darkness hides the stain.

Red is black in nighmared vision; it is not the same at dawn.
When the dying hope has marched in, hope that is a constant pawn.

Pushing in a sea of danger, pushing over to the end.
Pushing just to keep a wager, pushing for a bartered bend.

Will it ever really end, then?  Will the world slow down to peace?
Can the earth regain composure or create a time release?

Denise Kolanovic
Massapequa, N.Y., USA
Donated to St. Jude's Hospital

No comments:

Post a Comment