Silently Screaming

Can you see? A rainbow dying? Can you hear? A storm-cloud scud? Perhaps you can; and perhaps you cry Me? . . . I don’t know . . . I REALLY. . . DON’T! . . . know Can you touch? The dark? Light of night Can you taste? The light? Darkness in the day? Perhaps you can; But; perhaps you’re DEAD! Me? . . . I dunno . . . Oh God! . . . I REALLY . . . DON’T . . . know Did y’know. . . children cry?. . . To see . . . a Rainbow die?. . . Dy’know. . . fishermen shout “OH GOD!” . . . When a storm cloud looms . . . up HIGH? Dark clouds looming; Rainbows dying . . . Shhh . . lovers’ caress a velvet nighttime’s skin . . . . shh Mmmm . . Passion kisses a gold sunrise . . . shh MMmmm. . . Mmmm . . . I’m pretty sure . . . no!. . . I believe it’s so . . . Oh! Please don’t SAY IT! . . . . . ‘cos I really, really . . don’t know . . . I can’t do this thing; can’t see this thought . . . no . . . Where is God? Has He gone on leave or is He just . . . Hung-over from the Tequila sunrises? . . . Alone I am and . . . alone I know . . . I’m I-N-C-O-M-P-L-E-T-E . . . Less than . . . A dram of hate . . . a measure of fright . . . My Tequila SOUL . . . twisting with the bottled worm . . . Gravid with loathing . . . festered by fear . . . Loathing the living . . . Fearful of the dying . . . Lingering in the limbo of twilight existence . . . Hearing me; . . . Touching me; . . . Feeling me; . . . Tasting me; . . . I’m gone! . . . Floating . . . In the dimness of uncertainty . . . Marking . . . Time. . . On a broken clock . . . Blinded; . . . Deafened; . . . Starved; . . . Muted; . . . NUMBED! Just . . . . Silently . . . Silently . . . SCREAMING! . . . What . . . no-one . . . can hear . . . Copyright ©Peter Mark Garnett; January 23 2017