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Nothing

there was nothing there
at the end of the path
at the end of the rainbow life
desolate landscape
and the crows forever
and the taste of emptiness
life sliced and raw dripping acid
life in cracked layers leaking blood
alleys of sick old men in the windows
I have a huge pile of it
rotten dislikes
apathy agonizing within the eyes
a cancer in the soul
and a wardrobe full
of sarcastic old selves
and then at the end of the ordeal
on the final curve of the via crucis
time is drunk and laughing
with hands full of fingers
hanging my destiny
spewing slippery words
with a voice that closes doors
and turn off the light
(but my heart is a cloud
he sheds tears on the world
reabsorbs the good and bad of everything
then reborn strengthened
of every death he faces)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 12/7/2022 4:17:00 PM
Marco, this poem is so rich with images, I savored it line by line. I suspect the "I" in the middle is incredibly important and revealing. Good stuff.
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Marco Chies
Date: 12/7/2022 4:25:00 PM
Thank you for your encouraging words, I know I can always count on your benevolent appreciation of my writings. I have just read several of your poems, but since they express a reality that I do not know (snow at Christmas time, for example), I refrained from commenting, but know that I always read your poems and can only praise your literary capacity and the good taste of your poems.

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