Skip to main content

Wordless (A tale of Myanmar, Amerotica)

She moved rapidly over the ground, alongside the Salween trench where hell dogs slathered their steel lips in conquest, beasts collecting the night’s wordless skies.

She fell hard upon the scorched ground, her slender legs slapping the stony loam. I cradled her wet face against my chest to gentle her howling heart. She smiled and stroked my face, then her mouth leapt upon mine and our hands curved into flames as we pushed deep into the brush.

Wordless, we spoke of our hopes and fears, the beasts hard upon our backs, the children and their mother’s shriek, the lifeless weeping stirred by the heartless.

The sick and the dying were with us, between our moving lips and fingers, upon our union of sweat and flesh underneath the forlorn heavens. And within our merger of silence we knew, at long last, there was no more need to run.


© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman

Comments

  1. as always, my friend - your words speak volumes...

    i received your book last night - i can't wait to read it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. az,
    Thank you my dear friend.

    I do hope the book, (hopefully you recieved the one with the revamped cover, by that I mean a cover that covers the whole front page of said cover), brings you joy.

    Your words, by the way, speak to me and I am grateful for your visits.

    Peace...

    ReplyDelete
  3. enigma4,
    You're welcome and good to see you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. A great post on the Burmese tragedy. I'm going to link your post to my own post on the situation in Burma. :)

    Your poetry & your videos are wonderful.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Concerned,
    I will visit soon... Thank you for the kind words. Link away!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Again very powerful.

    Thailand another dictatorship, has a great amount of investment there, even more than China.

    ReplyDelete
  7. renegade,
    Thank you. Yes. Investment is one of the reasons Burma (Myanmar) slips further into chaos. There are many resources, gas in particular, that seem to have brought all of this slaughter on. Sad indeed. America can't really say much can she, when they've proven to be a nation builder for oily revenues. Of course America has her finders in on the mess...just waiting for the right opportunity to appear the hero and secure their own part of the pie.

    What a ghastly thing is man...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

sdrawkcaB nruT (Turn Backwards)

I have been witness to the four pillars and see no reason to carry death there. Doesn’t the world know that life moves for more than just the sons of Abraham? O! I see the stunned throats floating by in the dusk to their stiff-limbed sleep as metal rains down over the Jordan’s western prophet, children dying there. I am here, waiting, breathing in the dusk under the shadow of the patriarch, asking, can we again build the shrine inside the soul and leave our flesh to time? © 2008 mrp/thepoetryman

Laughter's Grip

They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait on His voice to destroy the golden temples of man, hold my tongue until His powerful breath was upon me, and from His loving casualties I’d at last know the Savior. They asked me to wait. To wait for God to come laughing, wait for His followers to die away their persuasive babble and the murder of Islam to breach the walls of the earth as the many damned souls drowned under holy laughter. “O! The Lord God is looming! On his way with God’s wrath! We are to take up swords and send evil howling back to die their well deserved and slow death! Their faces popped and spattered these words as they fell back, caught in His fiery presence, twisting their tongues into drivel and thrashing their minds in the glory of an Eden unlike any other. And then the snake planted his venom through the laughter of their gyrating madness. Tears emptied their pockets, spirits came crashing , and the anointed rapture of their making grew tire...

Waiting for It

Why do they stay there, between war and peace? Sky’s tapestry doles out guns, bombs and rocks while flesh and bone swim away from the ache yet live on as the food for the murder of peace. Why do we hide from the truth as if it were an ogre while death makes a home inside their living and war dispatches a raven to their door, smirking with the teeth of empire? Why do we wait, stooped for another wink? The sky’s drapery has tossed down ample clues, peace is breathing in harmony with war. (Road-maps are useless to blind leaders.) Why do they hold there, hunched in the gloom? Hatred’s bird cackling with bereavement needs end. Are we not rightly dishonored when we fill its trough with blood? © 2007 mrp/thepoetryman