| |
I stand before the massive concrete wall
stretching up to the sky,
a swath of white glinting in the late morning sunlight.
it rises majestially, smooth and secure,
promising me that it will take care of everything
and I need not worry when I walk at its base.
it will stand tall and proud, holding back the raging black waters
swirling angrily behind it.
I love this wall:
it gives me protection,
lends me a sense of tranquility
matched only by faint memories
of being held by my father when I was small.
I stand before the massive concrete wall
looking up at my smooth, white advocate
my shelter from the dirty tides of hatred and evil
which I can hear swell and pound
as though they had human voices,
and were shrieking curses in vain ire.
I ran my hand over its textured cement surface,
a bit hot to the touch from the sun’s otherwise benevolent rays.
I whispered in gratitude:
"I believe in you, and I love you
because you do for me
what I cannot do for myself.
I respect you, and I admire you
because you have the resiliency
to stand up for what you believe in.
You are steady, unchanging,
a refuge in time of stress, because I know you will not fail.
thank you."
As the day went on, long hours spent
on mundanity, excitement, and woe
I could always return and rely
on the massive concrete wall
stretching up to the sky
to remind me of the steadfast elements of life
whenever I felt badly battered
by the buffeting winds of vagrant mindsets.
I relied on that wall, depended on it
to instill within me courage,
perseverance, and tranquility.
Then in the heat of the afternoon...
I am standing before the massive concrete wall
and notice a crack.
only a hairline fissure, nothing to fret about,
the wall tells me. it would soon be mended.
but then I see another, and question it.
That too is dismissed, as were the next three,
and other other five,
and the collection of eight that looks like a spider’s web.
the wall seems to grow a tiny bit shorter.
I am worried. the waters are strangely subdued,
but the wall is still standing, so I trust it
as I have for so long. nothing could happen to it –
it is the wall.
As I stand before the massive concrete wall,
with the faint impression of possible cracks
and the height that does not quite reach the sky,
I hear the water quicken. the scorching sun above
seems to grow hotter
or colder
I cannot decide which. the light is blinding
and suddenly I am struck as though by lightning
with a heat headache and must close my eyes
and seek shade,
of which there is only a catwalk smack up by the wall.
usually the massive concrete wall is welcoming,
pleasant, but now it is roasting hot,
like a frying pan after a hard day’s labor
in an industrial-use kitchen.
as I lean close to the wall,
trying to make use of the shade,
I am reminded of the martyr killed
by being toasted on a giant griddle,
and who asked to be turned over
because he was "quite done
on this side."
the massive concrete wall,
riddled with fault lines, not quite reaching the sky,
begins to tremble. the water behind it
squeals with glee, and I can hear a horrendously cheerful
sucking sound, like a whirlpool swallowing babies.
I can feel the cold, malignant malevolence through the wall,
the wall designed and dedicated to protecting me
from just those influences.
I tremble also.
I fear more for the wall
than for myself.
I crouch near the massive concrete wall
in an attempt to see it touch the sky
but as I gaze upward, the unthinkable happens.
a section of the wall blows out
and a hellishly gleeful catamaran of water
leaps out from behind it,
rudely throwing aside its former cement shackles,
eager to drown the brightness
on my side of the wall.
I instictively duck as it continues to spout
as though a most twisted, demonic gargoyle
were vomiting water over my head.
the concrete wall is not massive
nor does it reach to the sky.
it lies in rubble now, in the lazy afternoon light.
the black raging waters of malice flow swiftly, steadily,
seeking out all corners of refuge,
violently drowning those who will not submit.
I am still crouched by the foot of the ruined wall
curled up in multifaceted emotion
flashing brilliantly in the long noon hours,
reflecting my paradigm shift.
I am in shock.
the waters flow around me,
seemingly paying me no mind,
as though I am not a threat to them.
am I?
"I believed in you, and I loved you
because you did for me
what I could not do for myself.
I respected you, and I admired you
because you had the resiliency
to stand up for what you believed in.
you were steady, unchanging,
a refuge in time of stress, because I knew you would not fail.
now I must repay the debt I owe you
because to do any less
would disgrace what you have done for me,
and I could never live with that."
In the still-sweltering heat but impassive shadows of early dusk, I stand.
my eyes rove over wanton destruction,
fallow stinking cesspools,
the havoc wreaked by vices unchecked,
the aftermath of evil run amok.
still water rushes over from the seemingly endless
supply of black foul liquid, maniacal
in its rampant progress into my formerly beautiful country.
the sight is a stinging blow to my heart
by way of my eyes,
and tears begin to fall like drops of blood
spilling from my broken heart.
I turn away,
toward the source of devastation.
I stand before the towering waterfall of black
bleakness, stark darkness.
I fancy I can pick out
a grinning face with flaming, leering eyes
laughing at my plight with the roar of rushing water.
I will NOT be laughed at.
I walk resolutely to the base of the malicious column
and block part of the flow with my body.
endless wrath pounds on every square inch
of my flesh, trying to rip me away, tear me apart,
hammer me into the ground
so its path will be unchecked.
My presence infuriates it, and I stand my ground,
fighting the only way I can.
I am but a small twig
trying to stem the tide of a mighty ocean
pouring its hell-bent way to destruction,
and it hates me with a hate so white-hot
that I can feel my flesh scream in agony,
but I will not step down.
My tears hit the black bile swirling around me
and hiss into steam,
but my firm resolve
cannot be dissolved.
someone notices me.
I can feel inquisitive eyes rest on my tortured form,
widening at the sight
of anyone daring to breach the seemingly all-powerful flood.
the eyes rove, the head cocks, the mind thinks.
the mind.
it thinks.
it
thinks.
the insidious liquid has failed to melt
this one’s independent thoughts;
has failed to mold its processes to its fickle tides.
silently, I beg for company.
I will stand here alone,
defying the undefiable until I am merely random bits of carbon
floating away in the triumphant water,
but it would be nice
to have a companion.
motionlessly, I grovel.
the floodwaters will never see me falter.
twilight is coming and my arms are tiring.
I long to put them down,
to float away on the triumphant water,
never to stand again, but my resolve
will not be dissolved.
the sun apologetically begins to kiss the horizon,
tipping its hat to me
in a helpless gesture of departure.
I want to cry out, bid it farewell for what will likely be the last time,
but I dare not open my mouth
for fear the terrible blackness will pour into my very body,
fill me up,
wring me out,
and leave me for dead as a trophy
or a warning.
my arms are so heavy, the waves pounding
with no respite
no letup, and no hope of any either,
relentless, constant, eternal...
it will never end, so what is the use?
what am I doing? why must I subject myself
to such intense torment
when in the end...
it will not matter?
I believed the wall to be strong, protecting,
resilient, unchanging,
indestructible.
I am much less powerful than a concrete wall,
much less sturdy, far less strong.
the wall is rubble at my feet.
what had I thought I could do?
my arms begin to waver, my back strains
with the millions of gallons of sheer sin dumping themselves on me every second,
and – even worse –
I begin to crack.
hairline fractures appear in my previously unshakeable resolve.
I begin to tremble.
my arms beg to falter.
then with a rush my mind is wiped by cool, refreshing water,
telling me to give up, no one will notice,
just forget it, I am losing anyway,
it is inevitable.
with a rush my resolve
diss–
fresh, strong arms bolster my own,
a sturdy body reinforces my tired frame,
legs like concrete pillars give me foundation, and a fierce voice
whispers in my ear,
"I believe in you, and I love you
because you do for me
what I cannot do for myself.
I respect you, and I admire you
because you have the resiliency
to stand up for what you believe in.
You are steady, unchanging,
a refuge in time of stress, because I know you will not fail.
thank you."
as the sorrowful sun slips despondently below the light-line,
its last rays cast long, lonesome shadows
and throw into dusky relief a shape in the far distance:
a girl with her feet planted, her arms outstretched,
her face turned defiantly into the black stormy waters,
bolstered by a boy being her support.
they are the only opposition to the torrent.
as the final light fades into darkness, they slowly turn into cement,
which, inch by inch,
spreads its way across the base of the waterfall,
then rises steadily, despite the shrill protestations of evil,
to become a massive, reinforced concrete wall
stretching up to the sky
for a new generation.
"I believe in you, and I love you
because you do for me
what I cannot do for myself.
I respect you, and I admire you
because you have the resiliency
to stand up for what you believe in.
You are steady, unchanging,
a refuge in time of stress, because I know you will not fail.
thank you."
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work
from Poetry
|
|
Welcome !
