There are moments

There are moments

when I open my mouth

to breath

and instead I inhale

the full catastrophe

of this world;

the shipwrecks,

the starvelings,

the adulterers.

Then I weep bitterly

from my fingertips,

strip bark from the young trees,

and listen to the

rings creaking

inside their wounds,

satisfied,

oh so satisfied

with the cruelty of men.

And I make love

on my knees

with my sorrow.

I roar from the cocoon,

the mouthless moth

in the throat of my heart

and I’m banished

even by my own anger.

I am silent.

I want to make

this mismatched world sing,

to force the elderly

to dance with the young,

the victim with

the executioner,

east with west,

the tree with

the wood cutter,

the cat with the dog.

I shout from the

stain of my lung,

love, love, love!

You fools.

I pacify on my

bloodied knees.

I pacify

The dead snail

rattling in his shell.

 

Copyright Ricky Barrow 2014

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One thought on “There are moments

  1. powerful, especially the climax and release:

    “I shout from the

    stain of my lung,

    love, love, love!

    You fools.

    I pacify on my

    bloodied knees.

    I pacify

    The dead snail

    rattling in his shell.”

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