BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

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

                    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?
                    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
                    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
                    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
                    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

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

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