Saturday, July 24, 2010

An angry death

Things have been rough
around here, the cats are spitting
fur and venom, each hiss
a punctual curse. Ripples
have run through the shell
of protection, the meniscus
a feeble illusion that we
can truly ever hope
to protect the ones we love.
A shuddering death, a gasp
brought shock into the place,
not silence, but roaring rage
a molten burst, a livid serpent
of searing flame, spilled over
deep magenta, a violent red
determined to erase
the illusory calm.

Rachel Westfall
July 24, 2010

8 comments:

Rob-bear said...

So sad, Rachel. Condolences.

Hope better days are ahead.

christopher said...

At A Loss

I don't know how to
ease your pain, offer you peace,
raise the dead, roll time
back before that choice,
let you know I was the one,
tell you I love you.

I don't know how to
strip this aching from my bones.

At a loss, I go.

swatinair said...

*Hugs* if you want them.

I'm sorry. Take care of yourself.

-Swati/Bloggermouth

KGT (aka Cagey) said...

Powerful.

S.L. Corsua said...

around here, the cats are spitting
fur and venom, each hiss
a punctual curse. Ripples
have run through the shell
of protection, the meniscus


These are strong, compact lines that engage all the senses. Each end-word packs a punch. Like a sudden nip, a lingering bristle. The tension is palpable. The grief, intense.

Wishing you well, and hoping for soothing things to come your way.

Rick said...

Hi, Rach
strange how helplessness can spur anger when surrender would seem the sensible choice. but screw sensible. ~rick

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

The pace here is vigorous and energetic, even though the subject is death. Strong and effective.

Great line -
"Ripples have run through the shell
of protection, the meniscus
a feeble illusion that we
can truly ever hope
to protect the ones we love"

Wishing you well.

namingconstellations said...

For everything that happens in tragedy, it lends itself well to this kind of raw expression... I hope that whatever has happened, this helped.