Swing all your heartache, right over here
we'll lap it all up with black and white eager tongues
Give us your war stories, young policeman, come
return to the brethren fold
I look at my boys, soft as morning bread,
white with innocence
I haven't the heart to harden them yet,
lest their soul come as cold as my own
*
He sits here now, in a creaking black,
couched leather eagerness
And tells of all the horror he saw,
out there on the street, his beaten eyes devoured:
The car mangled corpses, the dead
intertwined with the living, pursued
Through street, pepper spray first,
then hopefully gun, he squawks
*
When his rookie-run has ended,
his eyes flash behind the crow’s feet grimace
We all sit on haunches, bored civilians,
feigning a grand interest, not really listening
More waiting each, their turn to leap in with
banal reverie, competing story lines told with an averted eye
Jealousy - from our strip-lit drained
and sterile office life?
*
Or just fitting in to the crush fold of conformity,
playing our roles as model males
With tall tales told, he makes his excuses
and leaves for the mean streets of Hobart
Where an Echidna fatality and drug worn
self-harm, conflate into a truth
Universal of petty provincial existence,
and peeling away one by one
*
Each boy re-invents his imminent self,
in more heroic tones, polished bright
Lest the drear tarnished veneers of their lives,
bleed through this thin canvassed life
We can't help but paint in lustre and colour contrived,
the alternative is too dour to bear witness in time
Lives less ordinary, portray more charm, yet
they of themselves are but inventions of poor
*
Silhouettes, facsimiles in other lives too,
in essence all are shackled to that which is true
Perhaps we'll find peace there, one day, humility,
in the distance the flare and urgent excitement
Siren sings along the highway black top,
to another storm in a mortal teacup
A life, having seen the truth, is drunk,
dropped, shattered into oblivion night
And forever extinguished, another gone,
among the innumerable lights-
And we are left, to move along.
Comments
the beacon is a nite light....
as the humble plug in
yet each serves different purpose
the beam an intent
Well written...thought out..methodical
and balanced..salted truths and
thoughtful quest divergence
of an observance
mark is trial and error..risk..knowing
mistakes and triumphs
at a crash scene horrid bright fall day
a curve...four gathered...car destroyed
upside down flames just starting from
motor..everyone capable...mobile...
ordinary people that would lift their
mate elder child from a tub..carry firewood
push heavy shopping carts...help put in
the air conditioner or take out come fall...
master the art of many things...
I was the one that eyed the rest and set
them on tasks...two here three there..
I put out the fire first with another..
the others happy to go see what disaster
was upside down...I say happy...but if
someone was caught in there...the fire
out of control would be a concern as the
trucks were far too respond on that
stretch...two people...not stuck...survived
with broken bones etc....not chancing it we
all worked at cradling them as flat as we
could from the vehicle save any electrical
start up...most vehicles now have shut off
devices for fuel and sealed fuel lines..
no sediment glass bowls...no oil pots for
cleaning intake of dusty air..
when the ambulance arrived first I went
up and met the nurse whom I knew of all
things....school long ago together..
directed them down...got my work buddies
together and drove off to finish our work
which we did....breath in breath out if you
have that chance and act...
Ive seen faster men and women just move
into action..too...so it all balances sometimes
we men.....and I lived all my life with women
they live three of our lives and manage more
atop of this....and yet....we are the dominant
ones.....not saying better or we should be
the top.....to me it just is this way...
I hold doors and pick up garbage..try to be
the force diverting energy...whats that word
magnetron....the vortex...
others are better...and I compete and often
dont win...but as you say its at least better
then under thinking....
thank U