Word on the street is
Abraham is your daddy too
but that doesn’t mean much to you
snarling and smashing
crashing and quick
with the tongue and fist.
That shit list of yours
is set in stone
and when you’re done
I’ll prop it on your grave
to remind us to save
some prayers for those
drug down with you
on fast-forward to the last scene
no time for plot or meaning
eyes fixed on the screen
for a climax.
And when the curtain falls
it brings an axe.
And you drug us all
down with you.
(ReadWritePoem Prompt #39)
Drawings in the Surf
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Somewhere I read that Japanese artists etched beautiful drawings into the low tide sand. I thought, "I hope they took a picture!"
Obviously, I missed the point.
In this blog, I am attempting to do more drawings in the surf, relearning to let them go--as we did when we were kids.
Somewhere I read that Japanese artists etched beautiful drawings into the low tide sand. I thought, "I hope they took a picture!"
Obviously, I missed the point.
In this blog, I am attempting to do more drawings in the surf, relearning to let them go--as we did when we were kids.
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6 comments:
A sad lament for a lost soul. The narrator's voice seems to be of deep regret.
I see this poem as strong social commentary.
Great strong voice and rhythm here. I like it.
very vivid
powerful stuff...
Hm, I wonder if we were writing our poems about the same thing, or person? We have the same angry voice in this prompt. ;)
I like how the poem turns on the lines about the grave, everything falls into place well here.
Very engaging. The first “Abraham” lines seem to set a tone that indicates the speaker’s criticism is coming from a place of religion; but, if so, that place is also intensely personal.
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