two islands and dynamite
There are two islands in the stream, one is big
and called the new island the other is small and
called the old island, the pair is linked to a bridge.
I crossed the bond to see my girlfriend, who lived
on the old island, in a shack, all houses were shacks
the fishermen lived there in suitable poverty.
I knocked on the door that cracked, letting out
a light which was good, the steps to the house were
made off rough unfriendly stones.
Her mother opened I didn’t like her smelling of beer
she had three teeth left and spoke like a whistle.
She hated me for being a cook at a tourist hotel
work she thought was for skulkers men with soft
hands incapable to do a proper job, like fishing
mackerel for a living.
She has gone with her new boyfriend on his boat
he is a skipper, to Denmark, and with that,
she slammed the door shut.
On the news, a bridge crossing Crimea to Russia
has been blown up; when I crossed the bridge to get
to the new island, I thought of doing something
in that vein, but having no knowledge of dynamite
I let it pass.
Categories:
skulkers, adventure, angst, anti bullying,
Form: Blank verse
High in the balcony
Where skulkers tend to wait
I glimpsed your passing light
And did not hesitate
...to thoroughly investigate
..............all of my...........fears
Up, up I climbed
Every obstacle I crushed
Blind...then, left behind
The closer I drew near
In the distance I could hear
....shrieks
.............of deafening.......silence
No, no...that doesn't make sense
I began running, again and again
Until I got to the top
And in an instant
Felt this blazing hot...drop
....on me
Around me, it covered
It clung, enveloped every cell
No way out of this
Inferno of self-made hell
....I screamed, I yelled
..............but to no avail
I had to stay
Til I was just...moldable clay
....eventually
.................I stopped
A question arose
"Who are you?"
The answer came
As the door unlocked
"I am TRUTH
I will not be mocked"
I walked out, into her
She has been my light, along the way
After lengthy battles with deceit
Her blanket of fire holds me, while I lay
.....fears to rest.
Written by Trudy Schrader on 07/31/2021
Categories:
skulkers, peace,
Form: Free verse