The Sun, The Moon and the Hollow Darkness

The Sun, the Moon and the Hollow Darkness

 

I

The old primer grey Cadillac sounds sickly as we roll eastbound into the gaseous delta of an incandescent monster star to pick up the dry cleaning. I make a disposable clichéd remark about the amazing artistry of God. Emily sighs, and says she thinks that God is far too prolific to ever be considered a great artist. Her statement sounds like a bird chirp at first, but echoes like a neutron bomb. The sudden jolt rattles my veins. A tiny acidic rodent in my guts nibbles on the rancid remains of a gunshot question: Is she just depressed, or is she secretly disintegrating?

II

If this nightmare had a mouth, it would be wearing a smug grin. I am just a tiny parasite frantically scrambling away from the teeth. My blind hopefulness is a stupid dog that has made it halfway across a busy highway. I try to run below, but the deck is too slick with blood to give purchase. Then, the usual waking sequence: giant wave of shadow, wingless butterfly freefall, dull wood/bone thud and the sharp cerebral stab as reality rushes in through cracked eyes. I gasp hard for dry air.  

III

I reach faithfully into the half-waking darkness to touch Emily’s warm skin. The usual comfort becomes a bone-pulverizing impact. She is gone; fallen deep into the night like an infant tumbling down an old well. My savior has slipped from her cross and melted into the rank black residue of a burnt down prayer. I don’t know if I should dive into the pitch ocean mystery to retrieve her body, or just skip a few pages, and go right to the whisky tears. That obese b*****d moon looks full, but he always has room in his belly for a few more pathetic howls.  

Reviews

[V.B.]

"God is far too prolific to ever be considered a great artist." Really interesting idea here--like it's all a matter of quality over quantity, and his work has just become so over-saturated that no one can appreciate it anymore.

The rest of this is packed with the cleverness that only a few reads of your poetry has left me expecting, but that thought really stood out for me. Well done.

[M Baker]

What a disturbing foray into the mind of someone so tormented by another person's despair. There are many memorable lines and phrases. I have to agree with some of the other reviewers who remarked on "God is far too prolific to ever be considered a / great artist" as being particularly wonderful (and hilarious, I might add). I love the concept of a person losing their emotional stability and how that leads to them losing their faith as well. There is something Faulknerian about the third stanza. It's haunting and so smartly written that the reader is almost unsure about what may be occurring. Awesome work again!

[Hayley]

You never cease to amaze me! The last stanza is just simply genius. I admire your abilities with prose, truly. Your descriptions are wonderful

[MuSe Ampoule]

Oooow...this was good, real good! Loads of great lines/imagery...what more can be said? I don't think I've read anything by you that I didn't like and you never cease to amaze me RG, never.

[Emily B]

I don't just love it because it is about an Emily

[freelancejouster]

"Is she just depressed, or is she secretly disintegrating?" "...the sharp cerebral stab as reality rushes in through cracked eyes" "my savior has slipped from her cross and melted into the rank black residue of a burnt down prayer" by god, i wish i could retreive images like you. i can physically feel the loss in this last line... and i wish i couldn't. it's akin to heart-ache and i've enough of that for a village already.

[Deactivated_BurningDemo..]

The last stanza is my favourite, but not by much. I have said it before - and will say it again - I honestly love your poetry. It always leaves me a little off kilter, in a good way. I hope there's a lot more where this came from.

[OT]

wowzers indeed! a second 'holy s**t' for this one! the last part is just incredible - "She is gone; fallen deep into the night like an infant tumbling down an old well. My savior has slipped from her cross and melted into the rank black residue of a burnt down prayer." - I could quote the whole of III - but II and I are brilliant too - they set the scene of the killer ending!! brilliant!!

[Kerry O'Connor]

Holy S**t!
RG this is amazing. In the vast array of your exceptional pieces this stands out for me. Powerful, tactile, dissolute and the perfect blend of beautiful and ugly.

[Amy Bumpas]

I like number [email protected] number 3 has some of the best lines.
Thanks for sharing:))