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
Copyright © Peter Garnett | Year Posted 2017
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