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Danielle Nelman Poem
Rampage marching through the streets;
Crunching of infestation beneath bare feet.
Have you ever smelled true fear?
Mellowing heartbeats, trying to persevere;
Desperately quieting incorrigible tears.
Perhaps somewhere on a television set,
Or in a newspaper you gently fold back:
You might glimpse at how terror appears,
But have you seen the subtle heaves
As a child grapples to breathe?
Or perhaps, what his Mother perceives,
While hugging a wall, hearing her husband’s pleas:
Begging mercy for a crime he wouldn’t entreat,
Sobbing fearfully as they hobble his feet.
Screams falter to silence – left incomplete.
Can you taste the ramparts of ruin?
Or the echo left trailing doom?
All is quieted but there’s nothing left to hold on to,
None but the hope silently held tight
Inside the confines of a young child’s mind.
How can this not be worth the fight?
Fortune has granted you selective sight,
You think you’ve seen all that horror provides.
And all who we are and seek to become,
Is nullified and worthless in leaving the battle behind.
Long before the attack on our side,
Prevailed decades of horror, bodies heaped on high,
Destruction peers from every eye.
Mothers, in each other, seek final confide:
Souls relieved, but the remains tell no lies.
And here we stand in the land
That sacrifice has set free,
Saying the loss of one of “we”,
Though freely chosen for aid to woe
Is too burdensome for us to behold.
So when you fall asleep tonight,
Thank the layers of soil bloodied between both tides,
Covered by time but still singing the battle cry,
That the liberties you gladly receive
Hold no stipulate to give another the relief you call “right”!
Copyright © Danielle Nelman | Year Posted 2005
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Danielle Nelman Poem
They are the walking dead;
I know their fate and see their dismay.
How they scurry, fury, and grapple to go –
Running in circles to try and save their own.
Ninety-two spheres gone by
As I sit here and watch
Their lives gone awry.
“Put your top-hat and coat on, Sir –
It’s bound to be a very cold night”.
Below I feel the quaking rise
Of water threatening at the bow’s side.
Approaching tides, pending encroach,
Those left behind
Not good enough to be let go.
En la Coeur de la mer:
I see your face
But I can’t help you there.
The rats in the hallway
Will show you the way out.
Keep them down below,
An iron gate holds – their doom is foretold.
“I need your help…wait!...Hello?”
I’m sorry there’s just no more room to behold.
“For God’s sake man -
There are women and children down here!”
En la Coeur de la mer
I look to you
And give forth my fears.
All the strength and wisdom
I had always counted upon in life
Will not save me this night.
And all my wealth will not bring me
To the front of this line.
All the grandeur of my time will be left behind –
The others are mostly gone:
Here…I’ll play you a final tune,
For the dead are walking
And I am amongst you.
Copyright © Danielle Nelman | Year Posted 2005
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Details |
Danielle Nelman Poem
I want so much more
Than this judgment I've been handed;
I'm worth so much more
Than this grain of salt
With which my life has become equated.
I can not bear to be told
That all who I am, and seek to become,
Amounts to the nil
You've seen fit to define:
I scorn your indifference and lack of concern.
Unbeknownst to you,
The strives I have made and the battles I have won
Deep within my past,
Prove you wrong.
You have rendered me incompetent and unsung.
So be it!
I will rise to the pinnacle,
That by then I will already have won,
To see you beneath me,
Awed by what I have become.
Copyright © Danielle Nelman | Year Posted 2005
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