Friday, September 30, 2011

my mother takes a snapshot of my father before church on a summer Sunday morning ...





my mother takes a snapshot of my father before church on a summer Sunday morning ...

the sun is too bright

the day too hot

the whine of blue flies

fuels the memory of something

old

stale

and rotting in the centre of her soul

it's as if

some ancient taboo

has rekindled in her a cold flame

igniting something frightening

piloting her up from the deep sleep

of her dead life ...

his face is a blur where he stands motionless

just a bedlam of greys to her

then a chaos of colours

indistinct except for his cruel mouth

which gapes open and shut

shouting at her to hurry

and gulping at the hot air

in failing operatic gasps

that become maniacal howls

while she struggles with the camera

she is

confused by the machinery

that twists his features into a sharp focus

and the vibrancy of the image startles her eye

as if she were seeing him for the first time

he is a reverberation of someone she saw once in a newsreel

the same postage stamp moustache

his rat's eyes peering from the wounds of corpses

expressionless

vacant

pallid ...


the fluid green lawn seethes

whispers to her to steady herself

to take aim

and shoot

it's not what she wanted

not what she hoped for

not really anything more than a snapshot

but she relents, squeezes her finger

and shudders when the camera explodes

with a killing flash

Copyright © Kennedy James, 2011. All rights reserved.

Monday, September 12, 2011

the last ...



the last ...


and so
this is the last
the last sunrise
and the last sunset
the last walk through a favourite woods
the last ripple of a crystal clear brook
the last splash of salmon spawning
the last meadowlark calling
the last car ride through golden wheat fields
the last flash
and the last crash
of a thunderstorm
coming out of the west

and so
this is the last
the last telephone call
the last sound of genuine laughter
the last whisper of your voice
offering a gentle goodnight
the last getting together for coffee
and the last smile across your face
the last shine of your bright eyes
in the last parting look you gave
just before the blur of your last casual wave
and the last memory
of you walking away

and so
this is the last
the last scent of roses
the last collapse
into your warm arms
the last longing kiss
the last promise
of undying love
the last sleep
spooned in the curve
of your body
the last waking
to the last morning
staying in bed
and the last brushing
away the last raindrop rushing
from the last look of happiness
in your eyes

and so
this is the last
the last solitude
the last butterfly heartbeat
before the last longing for sleep
the last twist of blankets
the last midnight mystery
of the last dream
the last waking in the middle
of the last night
the last nagging question
of how i ended up alone
in this the last empty room
the last stance by the window
the last look over city lights
brightening the last of so many restless nights
that end here in the last hours of this
the last home

and so
this is the last
the last prayer
the last negotiation
with the last hours of breath
the last regret
and the last moment
of happiness
the last confession
and the last absolution
the last shiver
the last shaking hand
grasping for the last
moments of time seeping fast
from a life that simply could not
or would not
last

Copyright © Kennedy James, 2011. All rights reserved.





© Kennedy James. All rights reserved.
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