What you get when you are alone in a caravan park on new years eve. It's interesting, is it not? If you read, please review. Sort of a war/nightmare/to be revealed poem.
On the mirror that show the flashes
In rippling reverse
And twisted imitation.
Blacker the water,
Than the night sky,
One wonders,
Which is the reflection?
The hissing fizz of rain,
Against the hollowed helmets where we hide,
A private reality so much louder,
Than the faded commands and empty replies.
Surrounded by allies,
Yet so alone,
Separated by walls of madness
In our minds.
The rhythm of rain,
Which insists of only its sanity,
And yours.
All else is an illusion.
This nightmare is the enemy,
And the troops beside you
Are just more fragments of the smoke.
It stains the sky,
Clouds of humanity,
More grey in the half world of contrasts,
Where colour is a luxury,
And hurts the memory of your eye.
The screams are a thought,
Conjured by the silence in your prison.
You must forget them to survive.
Leave behind these impatient unrealities,
And hear not the shrieks,
Of who you think are your friends.
They'll hold you back,
These figments of mist
And imaginations.
Take a step forward,
But there is no ground beneath your feet.
A memory calls,
This isn't real.
A moment of fatal tug-of-war,
Between past and present.
Open your eyes.
A voice whispers.
But they are open,
You can see the mud,
And the water,
And the gray sky.
But they fade into black,
As you fall into the darkness.
Reach out a hand,
Grip the wind.
You can still see the flashes
Of the gunfire,
And hear the shots,
And hear the rain,
And hear the shrieks.
No less real,
Even as the countdown starts.
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
A riot of voices,
A painting of sound
With all the colours of noise.
Happy New Year
As the fireworks fall,
With the sound of a suicide,
And a sunburst in your mind,
And the shower of sparks.
And the screams are joined with singing,
An anthem that you have forgotten,
Somehow less real than the battlefield,
Of so long ago.
A new year,
A beginning,
Once again set off by the nightmare.
Poetry by Tal¿a
Read 1174 times
Written on 2007-01-02 at 06:57
Tags War Year Bomb
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Works of fire
The gunshots echo on the river,On the mirror that show the flashes
In rippling reverse
And twisted imitation.
Blacker the water,
Than the night sky,
One wonders,
Which is the reflection?
The hissing fizz of rain,
Against the hollowed helmets where we hide,
A private reality so much louder,
Than the faded commands and empty replies.
Surrounded by allies,
Yet so alone,
Separated by walls of madness
In our minds.
The rhythm of rain,
Which insists of only its sanity,
And yours.
All else is an illusion.
This nightmare is the enemy,
And the troops beside you
Are just more fragments of the smoke.
It stains the sky,
Clouds of humanity,
More grey in the half world of contrasts,
Where colour is a luxury,
And hurts the memory of your eye.
The screams are a thought,
Conjured by the silence in your prison.
You must forget them to survive.
Leave behind these impatient unrealities,
And hear not the shrieks,
Of who you think are your friends.
They'll hold you back,
These figments of mist
And imaginations.
Take a step forward,
But there is no ground beneath your feet.
A memory calls,
This isn't real.
A moment of fatal tug-of-war,
Between past and present.
Open your eyes.
A voice whispers.
But they are open,
You can see the mud,
And the water,
And the gray sky.
But they fade into black,
As you fall into the darkness.
Reach out a hand,
Grip the wind.
You can still see the flashes
Of the gunfire,
And hear the shots,
And hear the rain,
And hear the shrieks.
No less real,
Even as the countdown starts.
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
A riot of voices,
A painting of sound
With all the colours of noise.
Happy New Year
As the fireworks fall,
With the sound of a suicide,
And a sunburst in your mind,
And the shower of sparks.
And the screams are joined with singing,
An anthem that you have forgotten,
Somehow less real than the battlefield,
Of so long ago.
A new year,
A beginning,
Once again set off by the nightmare.
Poetry by Tal¿a
Read 1174 times
Written on 2007-01-02 at 06:57
Tags War Year Bomb
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
