BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

Three poems for you tonight ... here's #1

OK ... so I've got a little narration to go with these three poems. As I've noted previously, I went off to Traverse City to bring back the remaining Eschaton stock from our erstwhile distributor. I was feeling VERY apprehensive about this trip for several days in advance. I had been in a very-nearly-fatal car crash in the fall of 1993 which messed me up on a lot of levels (most notably ... my extended absence was the coup de grace for our Public Relations firm which shut its doors at the end of 1993 ... and I have not had a paycheck in the 87 months since). I was feeling like I was on the verge of another really horrific car crash. I was having day-dreams (and nod-off-for-a-half-hour sleep dep dreams) of being in hospital beds with tubes coming out of every natural and several addtional orifices. I wrote this up in the hotel the night before I picked up the truck, pretty damn sure that this "gesture" of trying to salvage what was left of Eschaton was just one final nasty twist of fate.

                    WHEN VISIONS SAY WE DIE

                    so much
                    so wrong
                    so often
                    so predictable
                    no wonder
                    this fear engulfs us
                    no wonder
                    we dread unknowns

                    sleepless visions
                    haunt our days
                    of agonies
                    we've suffered
                    as though a promise
                    of more pain
                    awaiting us
                    in coming hours

                    will even these
                    few words be read
                    when caked in blood
                    or burned by petrol?
                    who will know
                    to take this from
                    the charred remains
                    the mangled body

                    all I see are tubes
                    tubes for breathing
                    tubes for pee
                    tubes for feeding
                    tubes for blood
                    tubes for numbing
                    a pain which will not end
                    not in this life

                    is this how it ends,
                    the empty gesture
                    of a broken dream,
                    a mission of salvage
                    to grasp at shattered hope
                    only to enter
                    a trap of bitter fate
                    a final cruel deceit?

                             - Brendan Tripp

                    Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp

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