BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,
BTRIPP
btripp

A poem ... again?

Why, lookie there ... another poem just a few days after the last one! Aren't you just the luckiest people on LiveJournal?



                    SOUL, SCREAMING MUTELY


                    from darker modes
                    through inner states
                    descent embodies,
                    mass entrains
                    dragging with it
                    all vectors down
                    to crushing depths
                    ebon, cold

                    we can not breathe,
                    we can not think,
                    all is a panic,
                    body, mind, and soul,
                    screaming mutely
                    for alternatives
                    to this horror,
                    this smothering death

                    we are cursed,
                    and perhaps damned,
                    we are cast downward
                    far from heaven,
                    far from states
                    once occupied
                    which seem so distant
                    now frozen in the past

                    what have we done,
                    what crime committed
                    to earn this fate?
                    what shadowy forgotten bane
                    lurks past recall
                    to taint our being
                    and twist reality
                    to this ever falling frame?

                    there is no light
                    there is no hope
                    there is no way
                    this plummet ceases
                    or even slows
                    or speeds so much
                    that all is gone
                    just vaporized away



                             - Brendan Tripp
                                05/15/2006

                    Copyright © 2006 by Brendan Tripp
 
 


One of the "places I can write" is on the subway (or busses), and I was on a fairly long jaunt today (from the Belmont stop of the Blue Line down to the Jackson stop in the Loop) and was able to get this done while on that. For some reason I typically can write in moving vehicles, which is odd because were I to try to read, I'd be suffering from motion sickness within minutes.


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Tags: poetry
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