This image is called "Haystack Evolution".
A World of Belligerent Men
Her back evolved into pavement
and belligerent men
drove streetlights into her spine
so they could tread on her
day and night.
Some brought drill-bits and shovels
and would drill
through blood and sinew
hoping they would strike her soul
and sell her spirit in bottles
to those that had need of one.
Before long,
her frame began to fold
and she bore a nation
on her fragile flesh.
I know because
I would stray from the pavement
journey to her eyes,
drink in her tears,
and pretend
(for just one moment)
that I was important.
5 comments:
Max!!
This is sooo strong!!
I am not a literary critic, but this poem made me cry. I had to read it over and over again. The power of the images always there.
Congratulations!
p.s. By the way, do you create your own images?
Fascinating imagery. Right up the alley of a lucid dreamer like yours truly, who has been having nightmares on a daily basis for the past couple of days. Groan. Hee. Oh, and that last stanza... An unexpected twist. And how I love it. ^_^
Andrea - thank you so much for the kind words. I am glad the verse gave you emotion. Yes, I create most of my own images. I have tried to purge all the ones that weren't mine off of the blog. All my recent images were made with my digital camera, Corel Photo Paint 9, MS Paint, and MS Photo Editor.
Soulless - Your comments could be the inspirations to a million poems. Thank you so much for stopping by. :)
is it survival, max, that gives us the right and necessary blindness to destroy an otherwise perfect existence? like the side of a mountain, a woman's body or the human soul?
how often have hacked into the recesses of another's psyche pretending that it is for a purely clinical lesson, not realizing that it is a subconscious hunger to justify one's existence.
this one scared me. it is as if destruction is the only way to affirm just how real you are.
when i read this poem, i didn't see the words, rather i saw a scene, shifting and achingly vivid. i cannot but help to comment at each poem i read. because your words tug at my soul and cause it to speak.
i mourn that man must destroy in order to satisfy his own selfish vanities.
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