Skip to main content

Behind the Walls

I’m behind the walls, too. In the wake of division, I try to peer over, but can’t. I try to climb over, towering walls, trenches, barriers, hills and rivers and nearly make it before I’m called back. The stamp of boots brings me to trembling, to remembering, what of goodness? If I ascend the walls, what’s there for me on the other side, the end of hatred, murder, rape and war? Is it possible to escape the exhibition?

I’m tired of the clatter and clack of teeth and gunfire, the moans of shattered children, I want to scale the walls, escape the noise. But I've been summoned, called back to grapple another day or fetch laughter from clinched jaws. I cannot exit now, the stakes are too high, like a razor-blade held against my tightening throat.

Man’s kinship is breathing near the heart of truth. It is panting, eager and trembling near the stone that weighs down love and hides my joy. The walls push me back. The barricades are like cords wrapped around my neck, the furrows I've dug in hearts and souls cannot be undug, but can be filled.

Barricades hold me away from truth like an improvised bomb sending me skyward, tumbling in disappointment, crashing through silence like noise with a firmness uncalled for, a gruesome face.

Why are walls our king, lies our prince and war our god? There are ravines filled with medals, fathers and young sons, mothers and daughters, brothers and sisters held down with clay, with infamy and dread, and there are valleys of water lapping up man’s fatty venom.

I’m behind the walls, too, waiting on love to scale them with limbs of exactness, hands at the ready, waiting to curl up in my lofty expectation. I'll Ignore the walls, trenches and barriers, and embrace the hills and rivers like the voices in my dreams speaking truth. Walls can be torn down and assembled into smiles, joy can snuggle with me like kittens, their softness, my instructor, ascend goodness, leave the walls for art, that I might gaze upon them with wonder.


© 2010 by mark prime


Comments

Post a Comment

~I believe that love and peace are the only things with legs enough to outdistance fear~

Popular posts from this blog

With the Wind it Shall...

Poet For The Revolution
This is the right thing to do. Make your words and your actions coincide with the revolution.
The goal is stillness of the spirit, not the stillness of man, therefore it is not just about the rumble of humanKind, it's a celebration of the Spirit's stillness... and with the wind, it will make its way. Evolve...

RED SOUND Head-Line Verse

DALLAS SHOOTING, SUSPECT UPSET AT WHITE PEOPLE...
Red's the sound of murder
Blue's the sound of mourning
Yellow, pinstriped cowardice
Tapping toes, a distraction
Rage, the news attraction
Pure gold, rating's satisfaction The sound of murder is red
Blue's next ~ HATE CRIME REPORTS SURGE IN BRITAIN... "Hate is caused by Fear
Fear is caused by Hate
They feed off one another
End both, end all Wars.
Cease both, Heaven arises." Hate, are you Fear's second cousin? (First cousin.) Are you two close? (BFF's!) ~ ISIS CLAIMS 40 LIVES AT SHIITE SHRINE...
How many more are to be lifted before We rise up? (We need rise up just to get a headcount of those murdered.) It would be far too painful, sorrow comes from the actions of the murderer, the victims draw upon our grief...

THE RISING OF FREEDOM

The rising began and begins from deep within our being, then it brings the collective to an agreement; freedom is free. We are to follow its example and free ourselves from being a slave to “things”. To truly be free, We must agree that freedom is truly for the whole of humankind, for if one is enslaved, so shall We all be…

© 2016 Mark Richard Prime