2008-07-23

What is supposed to be precious

What is supposed to be precious

What is supposed to be precious
Can be ended with a single shot
And it was, it was
Ended with a single shot
Entered through the eye
Out through the back of the skull
A surprised “Gawk!”
Then the loud thud
Of a fallen meat sack

They came to where it fell
Guns pointed, hearts pounding
They kicked the flanks
Guns still at the ready
A nervous rookie thought it twitched
Fired all the rounds in his clip
The others more surprised than afraid
Did the same till a fog appeared
After the gun smoke cleared,
They saw bloody holes on flesh
A bloody sack of meat and lead

They took pictures of the dead
Drew around where it fell
Counted the holes and shots fired
Took the gun from its fingers
Wrote some notes, and some more
Thinking how big the hole
Made by the exit wound
How pink the brain is
And the skull through crushed
Still has pieces of hair and scalp

They bagged it up
For autopsy, then the morgue
They take the meat sack
Cut it open, count the holes
Measure here, measure there
Look at the contents then ponder
After some thought
Cause and time they wrote
Then rolled it over
To store in a big freezer

They put all the notes together
Connecting dots, mixing stories
Weaving, weaving, weaving,
Until a cloth is produced
Spotless and shining
To wear and show
For the eyes of one and all
Evidence is what it’s called
To be deemed worthy agents
To be called justified agents
Righteous agents
Of righteous murder

To tell the truth
Before he became a meat sack
He was one of society’s scum
He sold drugs, he stole
His shadow made dark corners darker
Lessened safe places in the city further
He was a scourge and cancer.
Exploited weak young people
Stole their chance to grow stronger
Basically, he was a life destroyer

But he created life, too
Had two daughters who loved their father
His wife, their mother
Had already fallen under
Disease, lack of medicine
Two daughters to feed
And the empty hand of poverty
The wife fell without a fight
Cancer was hailed victor

Once four strong
Now three left together
The sickly wife left her weakness
To the youngest daughter
Three they were
Yet Death lingers on
Anxious to take another
Hoping to make a pair
Of an already wretched trio

He was a skilled carpenter
Orphaned young, supported by charity
Loved the right woman
Only with a weak composition
Was loved by the right woman
Whose spirit accepted hardship
Yet with a body less sturdy
Poor in riches, as they say
Yet abundant in love
And their treasure chest
Already pillaged and looted
Here comes life again
Somehow cruel in its coming
Scheming to take
What little that is left

A repetition of a loss
Done much too soon
Just when the eyes were dry
Something comes along
To wet them much too soon
It was much too soon
The heart had not yet recovered
That’s all he thinks
It was all much too soon
The eldest eyes spelled: “Unfair”
The youngest said: “Papa, I’m sorry”

It was a mockery of his life
But who is doing the mocking?
The power of his anger
The strength of his arms
What can it do but strike?
Strike at nothing
Not even the wind
What he had loved and brought to life
Brought to life and loved
Are they to be abandoned to suffer?
Is this the meaning of his pride?
What his manhood amounts to?

The man sold his soul in short
To save two daughters
From pain not deserved
A pathetic attempt
To make sense of the absurd
Saving two lives while destroying others
Answering absurdity
With an absurdity of his own

Only two hours ago
This now sack of meat
Had been fighting for his life
To his mind,
He fought to protect
They came to take away
To deprive him once again
They may have been just
But they have no right
To his precious ones…
To his precious girls…
They just have no right

He fought with men
But not the law
Gun with gun.
Life with life.
All had the ability
But none had the right
All fired to protect
Yet aim to take away
In the same movement
With powder and bullet
It was a fair fight,
But none had the right

What is supposed to be precious
Was ended in a single shot
Now the man is a meat sack
His death was fair
You might even call valiant
For one being outgunned
His death was fair
But what about his loss?
He is scum
Because he lost.
What about his girls?
He is scum because he lost
Something precious lost
In a single shot was lost
All had the ability
But none the right

December 2007

2008-02-26

Familiarity

Let’s say there is a couple
Let’s say they are happy.
Until one day that is…
Let’s say the girl just woke up
And find the boy she’s with
Utterly repulsive
Like waking up from a dream,
A very long dream
She wakes up with an alien
That’s what she thinks
His smell, it’s irritating
The hair on his arms
The nape of his neck
Even the way his body heaves while he sleeps
The hair at the back of his head
It’s all painfully odd; unsettling
Between her and him
Side by side on the bed
There’s a chasm, an abyss
It’s the crazy phase of her mind
Things became so familiar
That it had become strange
And suddenly she was afraid
Who is this person
Lying with her on the bed?
Her heart was dead
Her mind blank
The image was all
And all was an image
The tick-tock of the clock
Echoing in her head
It was an image of him
But not of him
There was panic
And she was afraid
What is happening?!
The ground shook
The earth cracked open
Her past and future crumbling
Into the fissure slowly falling
All that’s left is the image
Of a strange creature on her bed
Knowingly unknown to her
Yet her tears started falling
Something is wrong, she knows.

June 2007

2008-02-22

You just talk to fill the gap

You just talk to fill the gap
Because there’s an eerie feeling
With a void’s presence
It’s called vertigo
Shrinking from the void
Blank space, emptiness
Not even the sound of silence
Just the deafening tone of nothingness
It crushes the brain
And squeezes the heart
Feel your eyes gorge out
It’s about wanting to run
Yet knowing too well there’s no way out
It’s funny how you grasp your hand
Sink your nails onto the skin
Strangely enjoying the pain
But you turn the TV on
Laugh, get annoyed
Finding humor on a newscaster’s mole
Open a bottle a beer
A bag of chips
It doesn’t matter
But the jaws tire of chewing
And livers have limitations
And of course,
What about tomorrow?
For the lucky ones
There’s a convenience store
And remaining load on their cellphones

September 2006

When you focus on being sad

It’s always sad
When you focus on being sad
What I mean by this
Is not needing your own shadow
Very much like the peace of the dead
But of course, not being dead
These thoughts on life
They just swarm your head, you know?
They’re seemingly relentless
There’s food to eat
A place to sleep
A heart that needs tending
It’s just somehow – very tiring
Release, now that’s a fine word
Almost sacred, if not frowned at
I’m fine, I tell you
I need no pills
My shirt is fine
Straitjacket, I appreciate the offer
But no thank you –
With beer I’ll be better
I just have no talent at living
That’s all
At least allow me
The right to suck at something
Not everyone can shoot hoops
So why can’t I not be…
Unambitious?
My cheeks aren’t used to smile
And roses don’t suit my nose
Say what? There’s the door?
No sir. No thank you, no
For I’m not yet done
Basking in the gloom
You have your joy
I have my misery
Why can’t you give the same pity?
My laughter’s silent
Yet your scorn’s apparent?
What is it that you find abhorrent?
Am I not – human too?
At least as equally as you
I care not for the truth
Just some words to come forth
I’m not sad for being unhappy
Nor unhappy for being sad
It’s just we want the same chance
That is to live as best as we can

2007

I’ve seen a man being hanged

I’ve seen a man being hanged
On his head was a black bag
The floor gave way
The rope squeezed his neck
He was choking from what I can tell
His hands were tied,
So only his feet jerked around
Two minutes or so
He’s dead from what I can tell.
It was a limp body
Hung at the neck
With a black bag for a head
Six was my age then
It was short and new
To see it again,
I really wanted to

And later I did
Only with a slight difference
At home I entered
And there I saw it again
Another man, with a rope on his neck
Just kicked the chair
And saw me as he fell
You’d think he’d changed his mind
Yet it was all too late
The chair already fell
I saw his face clearly
That man was my father
Looking back, I think he wanted help
I think he wanted to stop
Out of embarrassment
For I did intrude upon
A very private moment
Like wanting your clothes
After being caught naked

I was petrified
I was no longer fascinated
It was horrible and pathetic
I saw his eyes almost explode
The slobber on his mouth
His tongue straining out
Saw his arms pull at the rope
Then let go, over and over
His legs kicking all over
Then shiver.
Three minutes or so
He’s dead from what I can tell
It was a limp body
Hung at the neck
With the head of my father
It was short and new
To see it again,
I’d never want to.

December 2007

Hit by a rock on the head

Hit by a rock on the head
It hurt; it bled
Looked around, no one’s in sight
Looked up to the heavens
Only dark skies
Where it came from, I wonder?
I looked for the rock,
It’s gone.
I was standing in sand,
By the seashore
Only waves back and forth
Where it came from, I wonder?
Just the whispering waves.
A wimpy wind blowing
No footprints in the sand
Not even my own.
But my blood is warm
And the wound throbs
But I am glad
It gave me something to ponder
Started walking and thinking
Began my expectant searching
Where it came from, I wonder?
That was years ago.
All I found was sea, sky and sand.
And yet I am glad.

December 2007