mound builders…

mound builders

i hear
ancient heartbeats
beneath my feet
sounds like
the deep pulse
of trains on tracks
a pounding
sound
at the earth’s core
as if
reaching
for the light
of day
but
denied
again
and
again
like the justice
they sought
when flesh
adorned
their
earth
stained bones

essence of existence…

 

digital decoupage cwmartin

 

breathe in deeply
the fragrance of love
bite into the passion
of the night
tasting the sweetness
that lingers on the lips
long after the sun
has reached
for the alarm
and
hands have clocked in
for another
assembly line day
where
the only joy
to be found
still permeates
the flesh
of your
lips

a chill in the night…

digital decoupage cwmartin

in all
the wars
since time
began
promises
were made
and then
buried beside
the fallen
only the lies
have been resurrected
the torn flesh
of youths
still rot
in the ground
sounds of death
surround the tomb
of the unborn child
called peace

chains…

 

Modified Google Image

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hands
pressed against
a cold window frame
staring into the darkness
recalling those
below ancient decks
with manacled hands
and feet
the smell
of rotting flesh
the sound
of rusted chains
reverberating
a legacy of pain
and sorrow
wondering now
about the future
of those bound
to tenements
asking if their chains
are not the same
rusted chains
of despair
that still grasp
and
cut deep
into the skin
of humanity
drawing new blood
that mingles
with the dried blood
of their forefathers
a thought interrupted
by the rattle
of windows
as a train passes
on the edge
of the have
and have
nots

slave auction…

 

stripped naked
every flaw
was revealed
every scar
of promises
not kept
every mark left
by history’s lash
was open for
evaluation
by the buyer
but the flaws
of the buyer
were not revealed
like the history
of a country
whose own flesh
remains cloaked
in a myth
of freedom

the watchmen waketh…

 

beneath the earth
the army of the dead
move in unison
to the rolling pitch
of the underground train
marching to the surface
passing the roach infested
dark alleys of shadow people
the ones who beg for alms
as the hollow souls scurry past
the army must stay its course
headed for their burial abodes
crypts of glass and polished steel
for they have bartered their souls
for transient wealth and fame
a bloodless coup of a nation
where only pleasures of the flesh
are considered worthy
but at night
curtains drawn
flickering news stories
of the anger
of those who sought alms
makes every shadow
move independently
on the walls
a creeping fear
that makes even
the dead
turn
in their
graves 

 

This poem represents my final response to  the third challenge series between Jade and I.  This challenge is somewhat different in that the prompt is now an audio prompt.  Each poet provides the other with five instrumental songs (so that the song’s words do not interefere with the poet’s) from which the poet is to write a poem.  Jade has written her first response which can be found here

as he walked by…

did you touch
the sacred robe
of truth
as it passed by
did you see
the glow of caring
around the head
of hope
that wore a crown
of rejection
did you see
the piercing thorns
of fear
clawing at the flesh
of faith
could you not hear
the flood of dreams
being washed away
from the veins
of existence

suffering the vengeance eternal…

there was a man
i shall call him
everyman
since his name
is not important
nor shall i tell you
his religion
since all religions
would have led him
to the same fate
so it was that everyman
came to the sea of death
seeking the monster
that had destroyed
all that was sacred to him
the smell of rotting fish
and sulfur filled the air
and he could barely breathe
but his anger was so great
that he waded into the sea
seeking his revenge
his flesh burned
but he refused
to give up his quest
soon his skin became numb
like a heart that’s filled with hate
and he was able to dive
beneath the surface
into its depths
with each dive his skin
became more adapted
protected by an armor
that he felt was righteousness
and so it was
for years
and one day he came upon the beast
and slayed it without mercy
the waters around him filled with blood
and he swam towards
the shore
but as he approached
screams could be heard
that the beast had returned
and in the reflection of the moon
he could see
that he had
become
the
beast

in my distress i cried unto…..

listen
can you hear
the sounds of war
the dried
broken bones
rattling in the night
just inside your room
a loose window pane
is what you think
but there is no breeze
just a pungent smell
like burning flesh
there in the darkness
you hear it again
louder this time
and the dragging of feet
across the barren field of hope
carrying the weight of a man
in some forbidden land
some place darker than your room
again the sound
pierces the silence of your thoughts
is it just your beating heart
or can you hear
the cries of a thousand souls

full venom…

long before his morning coffee
they lay hidden
waiting for their prey
no movement
but full of venom
poised to strike
without warning
he moved outside
preparing for another day
tractor readied
he moved
the body bitten
with full force
fangs sunk deep into the flesh
breaking open the skin
the venom injected
his blood seized by this flash of pain
cascading through his body
into his heart
and
with those
words
she
walked
away