Sunset Arms

Leaves suffocate concrete Chicago

In my fairest of seasons.

Snow sweeps Stockholm,

Sharing in its own syndrome.

But instead of the pitter patter,

Gray skies rain down the richest of copper shots.

Acid rain cannot sting

Like the shells of our weapons, the weapons

The world capital of crime carries.

Malodorous Kingston - the obloquy

Gorgeous dawns rise with the scent

Of gunpowder.

Landscapes so well suited for snipers;

Where red dots result in headshots,

With hammers heavier than Thor's.

 

Amnesty is not international; it is non-existent;

Perhaps the primary perpetrator

When police deploy paratroopers

Yet are petted with piercing pellets.

 

The city of the proudest, for

The shootout is between

The Constabulary and one.

Where the smoke is so thick,

The debris so high,

We overestimate our own selves

Giving rise to our maxim:

I have nothing to fear but to fear myself.

 

 

Reviews

[Gandré]

this is very well written poem.
you write about serious topics of nowadays.
it is difficult to write socio - critical poetry
and keep reader interested. You created a kind of
distance between your words and the reader. It makes
your text compelling. I totally adored this poem. Also,
how you play with words how they ring on my tongue when
I read your poem loud " Perhaps the primary perpetrator

When police deploy paratroopers

Yet are petted with piercing pellets." ------------brilliant !
you did this again and again. "result in headshots,

With hammers heavier than Thor's." ----also here.
or here: "Snow sweeps Stockholm,

Sharing in its own syndrome".

you offer such a compressed information and still
you are poetical withing. it is very difficult to compress
and not being "worn out poetry". You really did it well,
I thought, he is original like here:

"But instead of the pitter patter,

Gray skies rain down the richest of copper shots."


over all, searching and remarkable study of a provocative,
powerful impression of the outer world and I was knocked
sideways by the breathtaking power and beauty of this
poem and the range of your emotional and cultural intelligence.
lara gandr�

[Emily B]

someday when my words meet metal, I hope they read half as well as this

[C.T. Bailey]

A call of alarm, a sounding of the siren; the gasp of the people. This you have captured. And where is freedom? And how shall we live? Your pen is indeed the vessel that carries our thoughts to the shores of post-modernism. Wonderfully written and engaging.

Todd

[vindictivesunshine]

"Where red shots result in headshots, With hammers heavier than Thor's." unfreakin' believable. I can only image how you conceptualized this one. Awesome job

[Brett Campaigne]

The last line is most excellent. You have super-rich metaphors, but they lack a certain mystery.