All because of that single decision
To grasp that grate and breathe in the ethereal skies above
Rather than
To let go of that grate and suffocate in the foul sewage below
Because of what he chose
This is what he is
Independent
Not
Incarcerated
Whole
Not
Wounded
Confident
Not
Confused
Slipping off of the rusted edge, on which side will he land?
Brilliant
Not
Bleak
Courageous
Not
Cowardly
Relieved
Not
Remorseful
This is what he is
Because of what he chose
To grasp that grate and breathe in the ethereal skies above
Rather than
To let go of that grate and suffocate in the foul sewage below
All because of that single decision
Now, what if he wasn’t resolved in his decision?
Simply read the poem in reverse.
At The Knife Edge Of That Deep, Dark Abyss
I that was born on a dark, stormy night
So gifted at young age, deeper insight,
Lead to safety of ever brighter Light
Freed from darkest of dark, began to write.
A child begging Nature to my pleas hear
Oft with whimpering words and falling tears,
Imaginative child, whispers one hears
Tempting shadows to hit me with more fears.
A teen, mourning a death that my soul broke
Farther into books my heart sat to soak,
Awaiting each, as black the ill wind blows
Felt such abhorrent fears, as such oft goes.
By birth, sponge set to seek out Master Poe.
Living, pen and paper, writing to grow.
Robert J. Lindley, 1-26-2020
Sonnet, ( Echoes Heard As Old Rooster Rose To Crow )
Does weaponizing a stolen truth
give you the right to lie
From this perverted use of power
do others run and hide
Is this how force is wielded
on the knife edge of denial
With rules you change to suit your needs
your sly deceitful smile
When the real truth comes upon you
will you hang your head in shame
And see what’s false in all you’ve made
—for temporary gain
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2018)
ON THE KNIFE EDGE
City without electricity - a lost town -
Phones don’t work, internet’s down.
Food spoils in freezer, coffee can’t perk;
Traffic lights out, everybody’s a jerk.
Elevators don’t work - gotta climb, climb:
And read fast before sun-down time.
Learn to cook over a candle,
Electric can-opener? Use the handle.
Back to the stone age in a second
Life’s not as easy as you reckoned.
even this
room looks different
and as for
the rest of the
city - well I shudder to
think of how
it's changed
rock doves land on
the ground
they, at least
seem rational
Looking up
at the clouds
I see
new and starlling
formations
We walk on the edge
of a knife
and only
through
diligent effort
can
we
avoid
being
cut
our blood is
our own
there
is hope, always
hope
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