Deafening Silence
What bothers me the most is that people are reading this site and very few are commenting. My belief is that if suicide were discussed it would happen less frequently.
In my circle alone
There have been four suicides.
First my second cousin Janice
On my dad's side.
28
Overdosed on pills she got from
Her husband's black bag.
She was mentioned in hushed tones.
Reverential almost.
My dad at 55.
He was played out
Or so he thought.
My uncle on my mom's side.
Through the roof like Hunter.
So his family could pay to patch him up
Prettily enough to look at him one more time.
My high school boyfriend, Ron Lazarz
Down by the Connecticut River.
Shotgun blast.
Shortly after he apologized for never getting along with my dad.
Three out of four were blood relatives.
No more.
Oh yeah, sadistic bastard
That threatened to let go
Of his motorcycle grips periodically.
I don't need it.
I have my shit but
I fuckin'
Bite the bullet.
Not eat it.
2 comments:
today it's the gates of despair
they shot the horse
that pulled the chariot
that brought me here
the pieces of this anachronistic conveyance itself
have been used to shore up the walls'
that buttress these gates
there is much evidence
of such activity
i am surrounded by the bones
of all other horses that pulled
all the other chariots here
i am confronted
by strong gates
built up by chariots
bearing fools
the man in charge wants to know
what will be acceptable
before i pass through these portals again
my chaperone puts aside the sickle
and pulls down the mask
and takes out the directive
this man shall pass through these gates again
when his lover calls to say how much she loves him
at such time
prepare another horse
and another chariot
to bear him away
but i know
this other horse will never be conceived
and i know
this new chariot will never come
for you will never call to say
how much you love me
This poem is
reminding me
of someone I know
Reverend Sheen.
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