BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,
BTRIPP
btripp

OK ... new poems ... 3 of 10

I'm still wondering if I should go to the hospital or not ... I was stretching at my desk at the end of class and there was a "thwack" in the muscle wall on my lower abdomen, lots of pain like a leg cramp (and I get those sorts of camps in my side sometimes) but I'm wondering, due to the placement, if it might be a hernia. Bleh. I know ... big-time over-share. Read the poem ... ignore me.




                    THEY THE WEAPON


                    1
                    echoes without meaning,
                    impressions without soul,
                    what forms of need
                    and of intention
                    when we are exiled
                    and unable to connect
                    to the homeland
                    to that distant shore?
                    2
                    there is no shelter,
                    no sanctuary,
                    there's no true respite
                    from this assault
                    as every lull
                    from pain and anguish
                    is but a tease
                    before fresh onslaughts
                    3
                    here's the abyss,
                    it yawns before us;
                    all support drops,
                    all illusion fades
                    and we plummet into void
                    betrayed by the world,
                    exiled by the race,
                    damned by the fates
                    4
                    so much anguish,
                    so harsh this pain,
                    it reaches soul deep
                    and curdles all else;
                    there is nothing left
                    for us to believe,
                    all hopes are shattered,
                    all dreams destroyed
                    5
                    all things turn
                    against us now,
                    no belief,
                    no thread of trust;
                    we are the target,
                    they the weapon,
                    all wait the killing,
                    the final flay


                             - Brendan Tripp
                                07/10/2002

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp




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