Machete Moon

 

Machete Moon

 

I

 

On the walk home, I hear gunshots from the next block. The stars are a frenzied school of silvery minnows in a cold black stream. Wind is shallow breathing. I am sure someone nearby is bleeding to death. I rush in the front door, through the house and into the back yard. Fear slithers everywhere shadows fall.     

 

II

 

Machete moon lops jaundice rose heads from their thorny emerald necks. Fresh wounds spill dark wine onto the drunken ground. Purple mud sings a madrigal about dead love and grey stones bathed in dew. I soak my bruised aura in cigarette smoke and whisper happy poems into the ear of shattered night. She refuses to be comforted.

 

III

 

When the cops arrive, I will swear that I’ve seen nothing.    

Reviews

[Crowley]

Damn....this was effective, effective, effective. Sounded like Mike Hammer giving a monologue before a gruesome murder mystery. I can see a little boy sticking his head out of the door and whispering "daddy" and the dad saying "god damn it michael...get back in the house." Crazy good when after reading I keep reading what isn't there.

[Linear]

Fear spreads in the dark of a starry night, a shudder, a tingle runs down your back as a gun shot echoes within the mind, even the moon drips with menace, to inner sanctums run, really good work, truely enjoyed your poem thanks

[Tate Morgan]

I can sure relate to this having lived in Chicago and the cigarette smoke was a mainstay of my life very nice
Tate

[Robin]

reality is seeping from every pore of this piece ..

[Tyler Allen]

Wow. Amazing descriptions here. A terrifying and demented feel to litteraly every word. Very effective, and the last line... so dark.
I loved this poem.

[MiidniightSoul]

Wow, this is amazing. I really liked that you split it in three parts, it makes it easier to read and more interesting. Very well and beautifully written. Brilliant.

[John Morris]

I thought this was an inventive intelligent poem. I like the way to split it into three acts like a play to show the importance of each section. I really enjoyed reading this.

[Kerry O'Connor]

I read this as a narrow window with a view of an individual, who is completely disassociated from the social morass in which he is forced to exist. Life has schooled all empathy from his soul, even roses are jaundiced, the moon a machete, the stars in a frenzy... all emblems of romance corrupted by gunshots, fear and indifference.

[OT]

I thought you'd been quiet for a bit haha and then you come back with 2! what to say that I haven't said many times - descriptions galore!!

"The stars are a frenzied school of silvery minnows in a cold black stream" and "Machete moon lops jaundice rose heads from their thorny emerald necks" are without a doubt my favourite!!

I also like how you've ended it - gives some foreboding... did the narrator do the killing? hmmm is that how they knew someone was bleeding, and why they've seen nothing? or not?