tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-100623082011-04-21T17:39:36.433-07:00mirrored graphic poem interstitial fluidpolychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.comBlogger81100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1107846695322892342005-02-07T23:00:00.000-08:002005-02-07T23:15:54.906-08:00muscle tight against skin <br />taut stretched ready for sound of shots <br />the trench mud rots youth <br />eyes squint to see the enemy from the night <br /> <br />grip tense on steel as nerves <br />breath stops clenched <br />alone with corpses <br />soil not owned or known <br />surrounded <br />fringed by split bodies <br />blown away fragments <br />companions before <br /> <br />silencing still <br />darkness harsh with it <br />sweating freezing bloodied <br />hearing hallucinations <br />sick <br />held in for fear <br />so far from help <br />there are no stars even, no moon <br />time is a torture <br />terror <br />infected mind <br />inflicted <br />endlessness of razor trembling sound <br />endlessness <br />time is painful forever strung <br /> <br />then time <br />left <br /> <br />here is <br />eternity soldier <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110784669532289234?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1107680104429127372005-02-06T01:44:00.000-08:002005-02-06T00:57:44.516-08:00the flesh is soft <br />pliable, hung from the bones <br />skin is marked and dotted <br />known many years <br /> <br />the hands that wash <br />tenderly attentive <br />cleaning the body that once held inside <br />kept as a home does <br />all around and nourishing <br />this continued thru living <br /> <br />now she rests <br />porcelin <br />skin in the just right water <br />lost mind recognize <br />the strangers kindness <br />blurs of nurses <br />everything is white <br />most of the time <br />blank <br />sterile <br />most of the time <br />most of the <br />time is spent listening <br /> <br />clock tick on the <br />wall above the windowlessness <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110768010442912737?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1107679354462874032005-02-06T01:38:00.000-08:002005-02-06T00:44:35.633-08:00the tribal rivalries <br />are full of old hate <br />they are buried under it <br /> <br />with everything they own they make <br />graves for their young <br />before they are even born <br /> <br />they make war <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110767935446287403?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1106421959002480372005-01-22T11:21:00.000-08:002005-01-22T11:25:59.003-08:00the bodies are in piles <br />pits of earth and empty eyes <br />bones show curved ends <br />where joints once connected <br />nerves delicately strung throughout <br />light flash thought and reaction <br />there lives tenderness and rage and irrationality <br />all hope, history and recollection <br />skill, knowledge <br />all these things once lived within <br />this ash grey rubble <br />of tattered and broken <br />not even stench <br />only dust <br /> <br />no stories <br />no breath or mind to tell them <br />no listening <br /> <br />silence scattered <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110642195900248037?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1105812686536037882005-01-15T10:07:00.000-08:002005-02-06T00:38:13.493-08:00beyond a quiet symbiosis <br />of lovers <br />nothingness is <br />it is true as copulation <br />tendered intimacy animal subdued <br />in simple moments stretching to hours and days <br /> <br />entwinings and cataclysms <br />a vulnerability unmatched <br />except by the mother and her emerging child<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110581268653603788?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1105421125638491562005-01-10T21:22:00.000-08:002005-02-06T00:35:22.116-08:00between the rivalries <br />of the family <br />there is not necessarily completely a lack <br />if it were so, they would hate each other still <br />it is an animosity bred from contempt long ago <br />sedimentary <br />burying <br />generation after generation <br />these <br />sad cracks between people <br />allowing them enough distance <br />to shoot <br /> <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110542112563849156?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1105394480453472442005-01-10T13:58:00.000-08:002005-01-10T14:07:37.233-08:00the same benign reckoning <br />no possibility of altruism <br />no inequal gesture rendering <br />anything of more worth <br /> <br />the rule then was <br />nothing she would leave undone <br />but the vague wrong of it elluded her change <br /> <br />she faced it <br />with misconception and wishful thinking <br />starforms <br />something becomes tangible out of silence <br />and life was born of it, all life forever <br /> <br />sand is endless time <br />know thy hour glass <br /> <br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110539448045347244?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10062308.post-1105349776250669572005-01-10T01:32:00.000-08:002005-01-10T01:37:10.053-08:00instead of fighting over it <br />perhaps it could have been shared <br />or split <br />down the middle <br />somehow still retaining it's value <br /> <br />but now, well <br />all they could do was <br />exactly what they did <br /> <br />turn their backs <br />resigned to the truth of it <br />the shatterflash <br />no luck in their talk <br />still the people die today because of it <br /> <br />mirrors are more precious <br />than gold<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10062308-110534977625066957?l=shatterflash.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>polychromehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18213005347946912602noreply@blogger.com0