deepundergroundpoetry.com
Silence (After the war)
I do not move. Wave after wave
Pulsating sweat in mid-day-May
This is the end. Isn’t it?
On a glorious morning; such as
This, nothing is dead.
Nothing appears as it seems.
I’ll quail before the hour
Pressing aslant to virgin’s bower
Smooth as tempo
Falling in fate with gravity
Ripples of light ruffle into horizon
Merging with gun metal grey
Silence; a comfortable familiarity.
War is over my love
Return to me!
Time put away combat boots
Guns, weapons and sack of bones
Weighing with the weight of the day.
Lift your head above stoney pillow
Singing the song of ‘Fortunate Son”
Leaving unmarked graves behind.
Handful of dirt, a prayer
What we ever asked
The choice was never yours
Nor mine in the end.
Etched lines come alive
On walls wedged between us
I reach for your hand
Pulling
The war is over my love
Return to me.
You’re somewhere
Unreachable, for a moment
Before returning
With a crooked smile
I cup a rolling tear.
Silence:
A comfortable reality.
Pulsating sweat in mid-day-May
This is the end. Isn’t it?
On a glorious morning; such as
This, nothing is dead.
Nothing appears as it seems.
I’ll quail before the hour
Pressing aslant to virgin’s bower
Smooth as tempo
Falling in fate with gravity
Ripples of light ruffle into horizon
Merging with gun metal grey
Silence; a comfortable familiarity.
War is over my love
Return to me!
Time put away combat boots
Guns, weapons and sack of bones
Weighing with the weight of the day.
Lift your head above stoney pillow
Singing the song of ‘Fortunate Son”
Leaving unmarked graves behind.
Handful of dirt, a prayer
What we ever asked
The choice was never yours
Nor mine in the end.
Etched lines come alive
On walls wedged between us
I reach for your hand
Pulling
The war is over my love
Return to me.
You’re somewhere
Unreachable, for a moment
Before returning
With a crooked smile
I cup a rolling tear.
Silence:
A comfortable reality.
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