peripheral bullet

peripheral bullet:

graffiti words slaughter

a customized communal calm.

 

reminder-tears fall like smart-bombs

on babies and the elderly alike.

 

something beautiful is dead;

too gone to be coaxed back by

the outstretched tremblers

of necromancers or faith healers.

 

mortality is worn like an iron mask

on the monstrous child-face

of all humanity.

 

red rusty streaks denote

a terminal sovereign helplessness

with no cure.

 

government impotence

and God’s apathy

ride the rhythmic undertow-

ribbon of the nightly news.

 

"the doctor apologizes,"

cracks the pale rider,

"there's nothing more we can do."

 

*nothing is less inspiring than

a bloodied wingless eagle.

Reviews

[Bertie]

Again you demonstrate a frightening power to evoke poignant and powerful images for the reader !
Stunning symbolism as well...
I'm just not sure about the penultimate line; I love the image, but I wonder if there might be another, less transparent was of putting it...
But still a fanatstic poem !
Well done :)

[Mark]

"...the rhythmic undertow-ribbon..."
Wow, what a description of the way we permit ourselves
to be blithely sucked, without consent or even awareness,
into the miry depths of apathy and oblivion.

Not entirely sure what the greater message is here, but that
line grabbed me and gave me a good shake, I can tell you!

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

Ah your capture disaster at it's core and never let it goes.

[Ruth]

The bullet of many disasters here! Life is literally suspended! The end? Well....you leave no mercy love!
xx

[Moflo]

As always, I love your word play! You fashion the words together in such a way that they project the best images possible. Also your last line is the perfect way to end this piece, very good write!

[ju]

you've got a line i wish i'd thought of- too dead to be coaxed back..... i really love how that works. strong images, as ever. great write. enjoyed, cheers.

[Amy Bumpas]

This to me has all these twisted stories into one, and none
of them are finished.

[Kerry O'Connor]

Oh the bathos of that last line after the relentless build up of those preceding it.
I love the idea of inserting the words of the pale rider in there... Death rides a pale horse!