You can smell it in the air
much like the scent of fear
lingers long after the beat-down
Purples bleed to blue
bleed to black
the same way the bruises
silhouette against skin
not prepared to defend
against attack.
Rubber soled sneakers
false sense of protection
the offended
much like Mother Nature
in their refusal to see reason
Their numbers
so much greater than my own
content to live a life of simple ignorance
blaming the world for their problems
I should have kept my mouth shut
Now...
it is the tear drops
like so much heavy rain
that drips salt upon the wounds
While they stand
beneath their group umbrella
safety in numbers
sheltering the one
I stepped to defend.
Far in the distance
the sky lights
I remain
broken on asphalt
counting the seconds
until the thunder roars
watching my essence
bleed red into storm sewers
and wondering who's the victor.
~NH
Stuart McPherson is back to the pub (finally!) and he's not only tending bar...he's playing weatherman too! Swing by, catch the prompt, blog your say and share it with us at dVersePoets.
20 comments:
You have described the buildup to a rainstorm well. This is my favorite image:
"counting the seconds
until the thunder roars
watching my essence
bleed red into storm sewers"
but then again, as I read the poem a couple more times I am not sure it is about a rainstorm at all. Hmmmm. I will come back later and see if anyone catches what I haven't.
Wow Tash- I never thought that the weather could convey this....the lingering fear after the beat down..the bleeding red ...the bruise colours.....you've described a storm not only literally, but applied it to (unfortunately) many people's lives....the weather changes turning from purple/black back to blue- so does skin and bone (eventually)....this just made me think about domestic violence....maybe how ne person can change like the weather, and enact their rage on theorherneith violence and unpredictability .... Of course I love this!!
There is something going on here, violent and wrenching. At first I thoughtnitbwas about someonenwho'spd stepped in to help another person in a fight. The weather imagery caught my attention, realizing too this could reflect the minds of the fighters, cooling down after the fight, lickingbtheir wounds. On another level, tho, I get a feeling that nature itself is being attacked and defending herself. ... As it is, the poem is very suggestive on several levels and very enjoyable, with viscerallynstunning images and descriptionsbof primal human behaviors. Those moments where you focus in on the primal makevthis stunning in part and as a whole.
Wondrous imagery
dang poet...you rocked the muse...you took the storm and gave in the fury of something even more painful....the bruise...charles uses a good word, visceral...we need those that will stand up to it...
I so often wonder who can claim victory in these cycles of abuse, affecting and haunting work.
I like the rough and roar of the thunderstorm as a metaphor for abuse. I like that you are the savior. Strong and passionate verse!
Chaz nailed the peeling layers of meaning in this turbulent firestorm of poetics, Nat, and on the third read, I lost the fear, no longer saw the gang beat down or narrator as pariah, or Quixotic do gooder; rather I saw the gardener standing over a single yellow rose, fully blossomed and vulnerable as the wind whips off the thorns and the angry sky begins its onslaught; always destruction as much a gift as succor; loved it.
Oh, to defend one who, in the end, defects back to the enemy... This is a powerful poem!
fear has a scent...yes..and there are way too many that blame the world for their problems and are not willing to make any changes themselves...love the image of the group umbrella.. a fine write ma'am
Exceptional write Tash. I love how you tackled this prompt multi-directionally, including a rangeful mix, from feelings, to observations to the accessories, side effects and subtextual material that is often ignored, yet when added, as you have here, add so much to the overall picture painted. Amazing read. thanks
It's almost always the case when you put yourself out on a limb to defend something/someone you become the target.... I can smell the burnt air of the lightning storm....!
the second stanza is so good....woww...weather of emotions and thought....great...
this storm sounds too human
which makes it more frightening.
I am feelin' this in my gut... you are strong and fierce in this write! I can smell the rain in the approaching storm clouds!
You've stepped to Stuart's challenge with your usual vigor, this poem thunders! The perfect degree of loose abstraction entices repeated readings, encouraging reader transference, bearing toward multi-dimensional overlaid interpretations, each intersecting in the reader's mind to cascade, invoking the next, read it again, what does it say, now,. . .
In one pass, it tells me of a physical confrontation. I, a late witness, unsure of the details of the provocation, even uncertain as to the exact allegiancies of the parties, but there they are, stark. In another read, it tells me metaphorically quite exactly of an online blow up, an unexpected flaming I experienced this week. Then a fresh consideration, and I'm off somewhere much darker.
It's an unfolding, an evolving, an emerging eureka! Superb!
Oh, wow. Intense work, Natasha!
Tash, this is so amazing. Everything I want to say seems trite but the images astound me.
such powerful stuff i'm reading from this prompt (mine being pretty wimpy-thinky)
esp liked,
"I remain
broken on asphalt
counting the seconds
until the thunder roars"
yea, one often wonders who is really victor under nature's wide umbrella...
nice piece tashtoo, thank you!
It was like being blindfold and placing your hands in a box amazing what touches and feels so much conveyed
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