If I remember correctly,
It began at the temples.
I thought it most distinguished
Mature, even attractive -
Though it was the foreboding
of things to come.
Over decades, it spread gradually
Over the head, face and chest.
Now I notice it appearing
On my forearm, in ones and twos.
It took away the lustre in my eyes,
Strength in my limbs -
The slowing down of the systems
Is ominous than ever.
It is evening; sitting in my armchair,
I look at the sunlight slanting,
“In the last thirty years,
Three hundred and sixty kills-
Mind you, kills, and I don’t keep track
Of the mutilated, the disabled, the living dead
Who fell before me on the tracks.”
He takes a sip of the whiskey,
A deep drag of the cigarette
Looks out through the window -
I see the glimmer of tears in his eyes.
Outside, the river roared as it gushed
The birds sang as they flew
Wind ran helter-skelter among the trees
The setting sun scattered golden light as it sank.
We were old friends, meeting after forty or more years,
This boyhood friend of mine
Who tagged behind me all the time
In these fumes of whisky and tobacco
I disappear, slow-
This soft music
And this solitude-
Mind dulls
Limbs droop,
My death, come!
The last visitor has left.
I wonder why in the movies they always
seem to get the happy ending,
and I wonder, standing on the bridge,
why I had mine..
On the anniversary
of his death,
she wears
a necklace of
black pearls,
and the police
still have
no idea.
Today someone died
You might have known them
But maybe not
Anyone could have known them
But maybe no one at all
But for all we know they died
And they're gone forever
To stand there,
On the sidelines,
Hurts.
To watch,
As they beat you,
Burns.
To conceal,
All the anger,
Rage.
To try avoid,
Scarring you,
Again.
To put on a mask
To you,
Smile.
And hopelessly watch,
One moment,
Two meanings.
One incident,
Two feelings.
Two bodies,
One heart.
Two smiles,
One dark.
One cut,
Two inflictions.
One massacre,
Two victims.
Two deaths,
One day.
Two coffins,
One grave.
Blinded and stumbling,
Grabbing anything,
Dragging everything,
Onto the ground.
Laughter echoing,
Voices whispering,
Drowning out everything,
In this small town.
Broken and shattered,
Mind doing cartwheels,
A hand to hold onto,
Is nowhere to be found.
A sweet embrace,
My last mistake,
A comforting smile,
A deathly grip.
A single rose,
Buried,
In her hair.
The scent,
Of blood,
Tainting the air.
Her last words,
Fleeting,
From her mouth.
She's free from worries,
Fear,
And doubt.
Her soul can wander,
Forever,
Hopelessly lost.
Her body,
Eyes fluttering,
Open.
Hands beginning,
Movement.
Blurry,
Surroundings.
Unsure,
Choices.
Aching, stiff,
Bones.
From being,
Broke.
Years of,
Slumber.
No real,
Number.
Jade stone,
Engravings,
Predictions.
Prophecies,
Holding only,
Fiction.
Masterpieces,
Based on,
Nightmares.
Soldiers,
Parading,
On corpses.
A city built,
On another's,
Ashes.
Dead used,