BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

OK ... new poems ... 5 of 10

Well, since I'm clearly in "over-share" mode ... I thought I'd pass along what I've had for "potty reading" of late ... I dicovered that the "dollar store" around the corner from Daughter #1's dojo gets in some pretty interesting books now and again ... I just finished up Grace Slick's memoir Somebody To Love? and am starting on Bill Shatner's Get A Life! ... both of which were nice hard-cover editions, originally around $25, mine for a buck. Gods, how I do love a deal!

                    THE LIGHT THAT'S NEVER HERE

                    darkness inherited
                    weaves amid
                    the darkness achieved
                    in surviving
                    years of anguish,
                    cycles of defeat,
                    dread horrors of destruction
                    and the desecration of our dreams
                    we swim through the echoes of pain,
                    both ours and others',
                    both ancient and new-formed;
                    sucked into whirlpools of fear
                    that nothing can change
                    because it never does,
                    that light does not exist
                    because it's never here
                    this resonance now
                    shows us one thing only,
                    that we are not alone
                    in our dysphoric rage,
                    our screaming at a world
                    too dull, too stupid,
                    too far away from sight
                    to be our home
                    this zone of torture
                    has many denizens
                    some like us, the targets
                    of an insane mundane race,
                    they too endure the blasts
                    of hateful crushing day
                    and seek for an existence
                    beyond the nightmare sphere
                    but this world is all one chain,
                    a wide-set snare
                    to obliterate the wakened;
                    those other voices
                    all have died, silenced
                    by their own hand
                    or by the world's
                    ever vicious grasp

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp

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