Sick, sick world

Inspired...

 

 

Sick, sick world

 

 

When pain is the wielded tool,

fear the bandage…

wounds heal never…never

Scarred existence, buried in dark confines

cracks in the frame, a thin hopeless terror

Splintered nightmares pierce,

streets aren’t to be paved in souls…are they?

 

Hatred blooms in thorned gardens of poisonous vines

Blind eyes seek misdemeanor violations,

powered wigs white as frail skin

slam gavels on chalkboard slander

and drink their toast, burned in tea…burned

Burn in hell…burn,

singed of your own disgusting disguise

 

It is a sick, sick world,

spinning for some, leering at others

Claiming lives like junk yard fenders,

rotting in weathered worries,

cut and welded into another’s idea of life,

painted pretty colors, enameled disgrace

that sicken the stomach…shatters my heart

 

And still a star shines, fractured but glowing

shedding light to textured canvas

Inspiring beauty in another’s ink

crying watercolor tears in brushstroke wonder

shading edges so the past sleeps in its own nightmare

pieced together by friendship,

so tell me…why does my heart still break?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading

Reviews

[Brittany Zedalis]

This is a wonderful poem, Jack.

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much Brittany

[BlackRose]

Such power and messed up in this piece. As the world sometimes is. Love your use of words describing well. Well done.

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much my friend...messed up...I think so.

[BlackRose]

Messed up in a FAB way of course. @{/:o)

[kublakhan27]

I think most of us who are regular readers of your work would agree that this is a thematic departure. It's like a dark parallel universe lurking behind the idyllic Wordsworth-ian evocations you produce so vividly and poetically. But those qualities only serve to underscore the power behind this despondent assessment of a world in turmoil. The image of streets paved in souls was a definite showstopper. And what is a bandage but excess baggage when wounds never heal? The final stanza is almost devastating with its glimmer of hope that fades almost as quick as it appears. I liken this piece to watching the news...there's the odd nugget of cuteness about a cat getting rescued from a tree, just enough to restore some faith in humanity, only to have that faith promptly smothered beneath the weight of all that is wrong with the world. Here is one of those poems that sticks with the reader after the book's been closed. Great work my friend...another deep and multi-layered assessment of one's place in the universe.

[Jack...]

Steve, you are correct...somewhat of a departure, but still reality, which I try to write the best I can or the worst...This stems from a discussion I had this morning with a mutual friend of ours and the inspiration was two fold, therefore the faint hint of light at the end. I appreciate your words more than you know. This was written quickly...in the heat of the moment, as it were...I am thrilled this one found you and you enjoyed it.

[A. Amos]

Great work Jack thanks for sharing

[Jack...]

Thank so very much my friend.

[Madalyn Beck]

The world is sick and messed up and so many wrong things go on. But you described the best part of life in such a beautiful way.
"And still a star shines, fractured but glowing
shedding light to textured canvas
Inspiring beauty in another’s ink
crying watercolor tears in brushstroke wonder
shading edges so the past sleeps in it’s own nightmare
pieced together by friendship"

Great job, Word Painter Jack!! :)

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much Madalyn. Your kind words today really make me smile. I appreciate you.

[Madalyn Beck]

And I appreciate you! :)

[Vidya Bacchus]

It is a sick world but then again it has its redeeming qualities :)

[Jack...]

Yes for some my friend it does. Thanks so much Vidya.

[Vidya Bacchus]

You are welcome Jack :)

[Brianna Brie]

Last night the same exact words ran through my mind "Sick, Sick World" along with a poem, but I neglected to rise and write it down. Oh well, enjoyed your version greatly. The last verse goes to show that out of our heartaches another life can be helped. Write on!

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much my friend. This came from a conversation with a friend this morning. I would love to see what you pen...please let me know if you do.