Monday, October 17, 2016

chained ...


chained ...
when they chained me to the door
and the cops arrived
in black Gestapo armour
to beat my knees senseless
until i crumbled into a heap
of blinding pain
that no one saw but you
and i looked back into your eyes
so full of tears and worry
and i swore at you
my harsh words
rebuking your
weak eyes
that watched me drowning
under the waves of revolution
and i shouted or called
from split lips
bleeding over my bruised chin
and down my tie-dyed t-shirt
until at last your mouth
puffed with whispers
lost in the bedlam
a prayer so vacant
who can truly say
what you muttered then
or now
all of it so long removed

and where are you now
now that i long for you so much more
than even the wisest could imagine
some say you live
in the rags of revolution still
hidden in the desert of despair
writing songs about the war
some say you wear the frock
of success on the streets
of London, New York, or Toronto
content to have caught the sterile winds
of forgetfulness

i told you once
that a soldier's life is never complete
until death finds its way
into the heart of the struggle
to confirm
the might of resolve
and you looked at me
with sad maternal eyes
and kissed me with your rose petal lips
on the sweat of my angry brow
and promised that you would
never let our paths diverge
that the moment of my death
would be in the instant of yours

so where are you now
now that i am broken on the cross
of sacrifice
broken and no longer sure
that i made the right choice
a ghost of faded glory
stripped clean from the flesh
of colour
and left to live in the black and white
of an old photograph
that caught me
in the nadir of my beliefs
even as i lay dying
chained to a door

 









 








 
 


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