Pain Refrain #1

Pain Refrain #1

 

Summer sunshine whips her pretty leather face.

Trace those timeline scars to a personal Armageddon,

Brown skin reddens to the color of innocent blood

Shed in the names of white-robed dead men with zombie congregations

Who devastate everything for which they pray;

On which they prey

Like a noose-weaved circus ring of vultures

Eating under-cultures like thin worms who peep through

The green dream/streaming nightmare:

 

Depends on which side of the /slash/ you chose to stand,

Or must stand by mandate,

And which dirty hand you choose to lubricate.

She hates when I mention the class-war tension

That has snapped the floorboards of her clapboard

Kingdom, and sent her into

A downtown basement grave.

 

She craves the past like junkies crave the needle.

Half of her baby boom curled in a synchronized fetal position

As Italian leather wingtips stomp the seraph wings

On which freedom once soared,

And where is the Lord in this time of need?

 

In free clinic waiting room waiting to be seen?

Tugging at the vine that shoots from the root of all evil?

Collecting bull weevils to sick on the uptown crop,

Ha!

Maybe if He can slip past the crooked cops too busy

Dropping sticks on skulls that house the brains

We’ll train to run the world once we’re gone.

 

She takes her cart and pushes on

toward the Promised Land

That waits beneath/above the skyscraper tombstones

Bleaching like angelic bones in the devil-sun.

 

My eyes betray my cool

As tears pool up and spill.

If they can kill her,

Then they can kill us all.

 

Babylon’s falling again.

Author's Note

for Miss Lila B.
RIP

Reviews

[Amy Bumpas]

Love these lines: And where is the Lord in this time of need?


In free clinic waiting room waiting to be seen?
Tugging at the vine that shoots from the root of all evil?
Collecting bull weevils to sick on the uptown crop,
Ha!
Maybe if He can slip past the crooked cops too busy
Dropping sticks on skulls that house the brains
We’ll train to run the world once we’re gone.
Once again your storytelling took us on a ride ride...
where is that ol' mad hatter LOL!!!!

[Omar Fendri]

this is a pleasure to read and I'm going to read again for sure. Darkly powerful and rich with creative expression. The image's just too breathtaking.
' She craves the past like junkies crave the needle.' what an imagination !!
the forth and last stanzas are amazing... truly amazing.

[SilentVerses]

'She craves the past like junkies crave the needle. Half of her baby boom curled in a synchronized fetal position As Italian leather wingtips stomp the seraph wings' Powerful emotion and imagery accompanies the contrasting strength and fragility within the piece and writing technique. The imagery flows continuously and with great motion, keeping the words lithe in their pain and loss. Hauntingly brilliant.

[Ruth]

And that is why I love your work..never unimpressed! Wow! xx

[Larry Dyson]

collecting bole weevils...nice analogies...harsh words in a flowing refrain...

[Kerry O'Connor]

This a rare humanitarian view of the dystopian madness, and the flotsam that washes ashore.

[Robin]

yeah , that bloodletting thing ..

[Kenneth The Poet]

Disturbing to put it mildly, but awesome nonetheless.

[Ed Hart]

yeah, an' its really gonna crash this time