Tuesday, April 7, 2020

Death-song


my hair
bathed in snake's oil under pink moon
my skin
a blasphemy of brine
from slaughtered bones & tusks
watch me
glide wearing the red
crown of destruction

count your hours
because i will smother your every
breath
weigh your coins & fancy
clothes because i will empty every
streets & buildings you have polka-stamped
your name

i will slither-slit
lungs of your weakest lot & then
i will come for
you

the death-song
pealing in your marbled churches-
the nightmare-beast
clawing your heart to stillness-

you own nothing
in this plague of war
but a mote of dust
leave me
alone
until my very own children

come
& kill me


Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics, in the time of the plague, hosted by Bjorn Rudberg.  Pub doors open by 3pm EST.

21 comments:

  1. Oh this reminds me so of the mask of the red death by Poe. This:

    my hair
    bathed in snake's oil under pink moon
    my skin
    a blasphemy of brine

    and how you come for the strongest last.

    Until the end, where there is a glimmer of hope, in the sated beast.

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  2. Interesting thought at the end of one's own children bringing the plague.

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  3. Wow! That is really heavy... what an eyeopener! Until our children come with Hospice and lay us to rest!

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  4. Chilling and accurate portrait of COVID-19. The children that come to kill it is the vaccine, I'm guessing. I feel little remorse in this matricide. May it come to pass.

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    Replies
    1. Yes, you are right Jade. May it all come to pass.

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  5. "I will slither-slit
    lungs of your weakest lot & then
    i will come for
    you. . ." Chilling, but true.

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  6. Strong and stirring, Grace. Shivers!

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  7. When facing mortality it is curious how many people still will total up their life by the amount of shit they have accumulated.

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  8. In the end none of it we can take with us. All it takes is one coming home to give us something that would kill us too.

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  9. I agree with Bjorn, about the echoes of The Red Death. The language is so dark and evocative, especially phrases such as ‘blasphemy of brine / from slaughtered bones & tusks’; ‘slither-slit / lungs of your weakest lot’; and ‘nightmare-beast / clawing your heart to stillness’.

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  10. Every hair on my body stood on end.

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  11. Very Noir, yet beautiful and hopeful. Had to read it aloud again, the words slither so nicely from the tongue. Would be a good one to perform. Thanks! Playing with your betters makes you better ;-)

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  12. The virus is the ugliest thing I have ever seen....you capture its ominous and slithery menace to perfection in this scary poem.

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  13. Powerful poem about a consuming plague...you captured the vile, merciless nature of the beast!

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  14. the death-song
    pealing in your marbled churches-
    the nightmare-beast
    clawing your heart to stillness-

    Oh wow. Oh wow. This is brave and haunting all at the same time! Such a powerful voice given to this invisible beast!

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  15. Oh, these lines alone:

    "my skin
    a blasphemy of brine
    from slaughtered bones & tusks"

    So evocative!

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  16. So intense...a beastly creature this is...!

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