Saturday, February 23, 2008

Scud (23-Feb-2008)

This is my effort at this week's Friday 5 from Poefusion. This was one of the fragments that I mentioned in an earlier post that I started but was unable to complete. I figured this was as good a time as any to force a finish. I know it's melodramatic and overly obvious in its imagery. What can I say? That's where I was at when I started it and I'm still not very far from that place. And anyone who sees a little Pink Floyd in this…well, it’s a perfect album for this emotion.

Incidentally, I think my use of the Friday 5 words are an improvement over my original choices which makes this slightly more palatable to me…thank you Michelle!

I don't actually consider it cheating to use one of the words as the title. Although I admit to having to look up the meaning, I found it a perfect description for what occurs.

Scud


From the first injustice
Inflicted as a child,
I started walling off the world.

I toiled long
And labored years
To ensure safety from agitation.

But a gentle storm comes;
Rips through my fortress.
It leaves me without my security.

I am lain barren;
Naked on the grass.
No sun above warms me.

I will begin work anew,
Promising with every brick
That my margin will stand forever.

Once finished,
I will sit here
And crow for death.

7 comments:

paisley said...

i have some very finely crafted walls myself... i know they are there,, and i am thinking that is a good thing... but i really don't want anyone to touch them......

Michelle Johnson said...

You grip my heart with this one. I think you painted a picture everyone can relate though. Everyone has some walls around them and sometimes they can't be broken no matter the circumstance. Thanks for sharing. Have a nice day.

tumblewords said...

Great use of the prompt words! Poignant piece that resonates with truth.

The Phantom said...

Thank you all so much for the kind comments. It's helpful at times like this to find such a supportive group.

UL said...

layered and deep, heart touching. thank you for sharing.

Russell Ragsdale said...

Ah the walls! Sometimes they are thin and brittle, like the bottle that keeps the jin (an unfortunate pun). Sometimes they are thick and brutal, scarred with our desperate claws. Other times we regard them from the other side hoping they will be able to contain the monster. Good job!

Jane Doe said...

What a wonderful poem! I love how you used the prompt words. Great job!