The Isna Triad: Menhit

The Isna Triad: Menhit

A Poem by Catala
"

I lost the third part of this three piece poetry collection... I'll have t re-write it

"
I've come to a point
Where i must
A single savior find
But it's never so easy
To turn to another.

I need a path to enlighten me
Something simple,
For my senses to heighten
But there's only
One person to see.

And I'm praying.

There's a desert in the jungle,
Where all the sunbather's go.
There they die of dehydration
From the tips of their tounges
To there souless toes.

Can't they see it's no use now?
See the dried bones of the others?
As the sun scourches down upon me
I shiver from fear with goosebumps familiar
As the desert dries blood up again

And I'm praying for rain.

Driving down an interstate highway
I notice the black top mirrored.
We watch as it vanishes and reappears again,
A trend followed by the closest of friends.
One minute they're there & the next...

So can i find me a staple,
To make them stay by me?
As the usual supsects settle in,
My brain makes the plunge once again.
I'm inspired by deserters to commit to death.

And I'm praying for rain so I can.

I'm hearing a music unlike any other.
Comparable only to that played by Mother Nature.
It's disharmonic and clashing
Like violas, trumpets, and video games.
Mixed with Bach, Greenday, and Elvis.

It's a beat all my own,
With my hips shaking,
From fright and dissatisfaction.
The dance floor is heating up,
My shoes have melted to the floor.

And I'm praying for rain so I can dance.

My hands cooled by love heated metal
A grin of delirium covers my face.
Click after click while their cares depart,
And shock registers their fate.
Millions down, and more to go.

Black and white checkered floor,
From an era long past
Is flooded by red life and brown death.
Even as their screams die and souls rise to boogie
I see the ruby splatter tainting my ball gown.

And I'm praying for rain so I can dance with the spirits.

© 2009 Catala


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Added on December 31, 2009
Last Updated on December 31, 2009

Author

Catala
Catala

LA



About
I'm uploading old poems, and trying to write some new, so, yes, massive uploads. sorry ehheh "What is plucked will grow again, What is slain lives on, What is stolen will remain What is gone .. more..

Writing
Wholly Me Wholly Me

A Poem by Catala