06-25-2017, 11:16 PM
poems on fear, wow the theme prompted so much creativity here. don´t have a poem to add, but want to leave some praise, well, and interpret (probably often missing the poems´ intentions)
__________________________________
Just Mercedes:
Cordelia
I’m frightened by his need.
He wants false words, fake
worship. How can I be
true to what he taught
without a lie?
He thrives on absence.
I’m banished while
my sisters emasculate him.
I come back just to die.
I forgive him.Then
when he’s sane again
and knows what he has done
he carries me dead in his arms
like a virgin mother,
weeping. I hate
the way he makes a fuss
about himself. It’s always
him, him, him.
makes me think of a relationship where 2 people don´t know or really care about each other. trapped. scary. the last line is kind of revealing. I am esp. fond of “like a virgin mother”, the subject seeing herself (well, to be liberal, could be himself as well) as some sort of jesus, sacrificed. and also kind of makes me think the “birth” of the relationship was never real and has somehow fallen from grace.. great poem
___________________________________
CRNDLSM:
There are hundreds of you there
from me alone already;
Heaven's full of innocent,
harmless vegetarians.
Keep clinging to the ceiling,
Last time I missed you had wings.
Won't make that mistake again.
I don't need anything in the garage anyway
first two lines: chilling, how often has the subject died already? hopes clinging to the ceiling with angel´s wings.. scary because they might be delusions.
_________________
kolemath:
Dead Child in My Arms
I thought,
her lifeless body cradled
against my screaming chest,
her face, a pale blueing to purple,
cold sleep and limp lips,
her frozen face, stopping time.
I thrust her into the shower,
screaming in her ear to "Wake up!"
screaming to God to "Wake up!"
screaming to myself to "Wake up!"
911 on the line,
ambulance in the street,
she woke up.
"Febrile seizure," the doctor said. "Nothing we can do."
But she's awake and wants to play.
nightmare to every parent.. even the last line don´t erase the fear it might happen again.
one thing: “Febrile seizure .. so getting the temp down seems a good thing to do”
______________________________________
Keith
The slow ride of adrenaline
There's a terrifying moment,
a gap between realisation
and a motorbike crash.
An opening for the devil
to discuss your fate with god.
A coin toss really,
before the real world returns
to crunch metal and splinter bones.
The Honda hit the van hard
snapping my shoulder blade
the clutch lever stuck in my knee.
Come with me he said
and offered me the light that
leaves our eyes, and I could see
everything I wished to be.
Stay still she said,
and offered me myself,
and I could see
who I will always be.
I slowly moved my head
my arms and legs, then checked
the damage to the bike. Are you
alright the Van driver said,
as the voices argued inside my head.
never was close to or scared to death, so I wouldn´t know if the slow motion pic of live really is playing then.
4th and 5th stanza seem to show the argument, he offering dreams, she offering truth. hard to say which is more scary.
__________________________________
Teagan
Chosen One
The first message came in the image of sun rays
through gold rivulets of cloud layers.
God-like seems such a limiting designation for
what started to grow within me. Reborn, alive.
The voice speaks only to me – I will be fisher of men.
Then came the glass-imaged holy glow of the modified
semi-automatic, gas-operated, detachable-magazine
chambered in a 7.62 x 51 military caliber.
I am the Redeemer. I am ready.
ouch. old testament fueled rampage coming.
_____________________________________
Rayheinrich:
we're too busy pushing and pulling
fingers and razor blades
trying to find triggers
all the while keeping an eye out
for the launch codes
feeling their sharp spines
in our bunny-boots
running the stairs
up another story
of black rooms
and metal steps
our wrists wired
our mouths taped
we better get good at listening
makes me think of big brother (not the tv show one), threats of war of all sorts .. trying to listen ourselves is scary but seems the only thing we can do here.
since I can´t fit elvis into this I probably got it wrong. the photo seems a montage, she´s too pale, background even paler in comparison to the singer.
_______________________
Todd:
Observed
When I was small, I was not afraid
of being alone.
A tiny man with a razor blade
watched from the above ventilation duct.
His smile would walk down my spine.
When I was alone, I was not afraid
of death.
I watch my children sleep.
gosh, this is creepy, especially the last line. makes me think of the subject mixing up his own childhood fears with those he projects into his children.
__________________________________
Just Mercedes:
Cordelia
I’m frightened by his need.
He wants false words, fake
worship. How can I be
true to what he taught
without a lie?
He thrives on absence.
I’m banished while
my sisters emasculate him.
I come back just to die.
I forgive him.Then
when he’s sane again
and knows what he has done
he carries me dead in his arms
like a virgin mother,
weeping. I hate
the way he makes a fuss
about himself. It’s always
him, him, him.
makes me think of a relationship where 2 people don´t know or really care about each other. trapped. scary. the last line is kind of revealing. I am esp. fond of “like a virgin mother”, the subject seeing herself (well, to be liberal, could be himself as well) as some sort of jesus, sacrificed. and also kind of makes me think the “birth” of the relationship was never real and has somehow fallen from grace.. great poem
___________________________________
CRNDLSM:
There are hundreds of you there
from me alone already;
Heaven's full of innocent,
harmless vegetarians.
Keep clinging to the ceiling,
Last time I missed you had wings.
Won't make that mistake again.
I don't need anything in the garage anyway
first two lines: chilling, how often has the subject died already? hopes clinging to the ceiling with angel´s wings.. scary because they might be delusions.
_________________
kolemath:
Dead Child in My Arms
I thought,
her lifeless body cradled
against my screaming chest,
her face, a pale blueing to purple,
cold sleep and limp lips,
her frozen face, stopping time.
I thrust her into the shower,
screaming in her ear to "Wake up!"
screaming to God to "Wake up!"
screaming to myself to "Wake up!"
911 on the line,
ambulance in the street,
she woke up.
"Febrile seizure," the doctor said. "Nothing we can do."
But she's awake and wants to play.
nightmare to every parent.. even the last line don´t erase the fear it might happen again.
one thing: “Febrile seizure .. so getting the temp down seems a good thing to do”
______________________________________
Keith
The slow ride of adrenaline
There's a terrifying moment,
a gap between realisation
and a motorbike crash.
An opening for the devil
to discuss your fate with god.
A coin toss really,
before the real world returns
to crunch metal and splinter bones.
The Honda hit the van hard
snapping my shoulder blade
the clutch lever stuck in my knee.
Come with me he said
and offered me the light that
leaves our eyes, and I could see
everything I wished to be.
Stay still she said,
and offered me myself,
and I could see
who I will always be.
I slowly moved my head
my arms and legs, then checked
the damage to the bike. Are you
alright the Van driver said,
as the voices argued inside my head.
never was close to or scared to death, so I wouldn´t know if the slow motion pic of live really is playing then.
4th and 5th stanza seem to show the argument, he offering dreams, she offering truth. hard to say which is more scary.
__________________________________
Teagan
Chosen One
The first message came in the image of sun rays
through gold rivulets of cloud layers.
God-like seems such a limiting designation for
what started to grow within me. Reborn, alive.
The voice speaks only to me – I will be fisher of men.
Then came the glass-imaged holy glow of the modified
semi-automatic, gas-operated, detachable-magazine
chambered in a 7.62 x 51 military caliber.
I am the Redeemer. I am ready.
ouch. old testament fueled rampage coming.
_____________________________________
Rayheinrich:
we're too busy pushing and pulling
fingers and razor blades
trying to find triggers
all the while keeping an eye out
for the launch codes
feeling their sharp spines
in our bunny-boots
running the stairs
up another story
of black rooms
and metal steps
our wrists wired
our mouths taped
we better get good at listening
makes me think of big brother (not the tv show one), threats of war of all sorts .. trying to listen ourselves is scary but seems the only thing we can do here.
since I can´t fit elvis into this I probably got it wrong. the photo seems a montage, she´s too pale, background even paler in comparison to the singer.
_______________________
Todd:
Observed
When I was small, I was not afraid
of being alone.
A tiny man with a razor blade
watched from the above ventilation duct.
His smile would walk down my spine.
When I was alone, I was not afraid
of death.
I watch my children sleep.
gosh, this is creepy, especially the last line. makes me think of the subject mixing up his own childhood fears with those he projects into his children.