Eggs without shells.
Pink swans dancing on tin cars.
92 pieces of china, different sizes and shapes,
getting pelted by hail.
Haunting, sinewy dandelions,
creeping with tiny dolls
made to look like Russian soldiers.
soccer field larger than an ocean,
and a snapped block.
Many snapped blocks.
I learned about half-seconds.
Tiny dolls sing of other fates,
hopping with broken toes on broken china.
Broken horn, car horn,
stuck on D-flat.
Deep, dark oranges
full of bricks and poisons.
Dropped from 9 stories,
compounding death of much of the brain.
Always empty guns.
Brown tanks named Jack,
incomplete without Daniels.
Pink rose tethered to save days,
but fat ass smashes pink rose.
chasing all of the thieves
hard into stone wall
on top of a miserable loser,
a man of no value
who should be locked
in rooms with chains
and sour mattresses,
without human contact,
waiting for his pine box.
With God’s fingers, not noticeable,
but guiding the chaos,
41 million china plates on my head,
never falling but bending the spine.
Sit alone after God leaves.
Feel the chaos stir all of the diseases
and cook brilliant red mess.
Come back to me.
Don’t you give up now!
On my knees,
into Roman sunsets.
sings of worthlessness
and is indomitable.
The song is not over,
but it is so quiet.
Humans don’t want to try to hear.
Almost Wednesday – It’s One Shot Wednesday – Go check out the fine work there!
#1 by brian on April 26, 2011 - 9:39 pm
some intriguing imagery the plate pounded by hail, later stacked on your head bending your spine…i felt those pops by the way…each scene added another interesting layer…
#2 by Carl on April 26, 2011 - 10:54 pm
Thank you, Brian. I appreciate your comment.
#3 by dustus on April 26, 2011 - 10:12 pm
As much as your poem is visually loaded, a find intonations of rage that seems to challenge alienation and depression. There are many layers here that require additional readings. Quite a write.
#4 by Carl on April 26, 2011 - 10:56 pm
Adam, very kind of your to read and comment. I appreciate it.
#5 by Apryl Gonzales on April 26, 2011 - 11:46 pm
IV is my favorite, perfect ending to a powerfully written piece.
#6 by Carl on April 27, 2011 - 9:06 pm
Thank you for your comment. I appreciate it!
#7 by Eric 'Bubba' Alder on April 27, 2011 - 10:44 am
This is epic, Carl! I liked the “delicate xylophone” part at the end – one rarely sees the word xylophone in poems.
#8 by Carl on April 27, 2011 - 9:08 pm
Thank you so much, Eric! I appreciate your comment.
#9 by gautami tripathy on April 27, 2011 - 11:58 am
Such a good narration. Good flow…
Here is my one shot:
#10 by Carl on April 27, 2011 - 9:33 pm
Thank you for your comment! I enjoyed your piece.
#11 by John (@bookdreamer) on April 28, 2011 - 1:10 am
A fine spine of images
#12 by Carl on April 28, 2011 - 7:28 am
Thank you for your comment, John.