The Tears of a Crowd Forming
Hark, and come closer,
what is it you
feel through the soles
of your feet ..
Can you hear them
assembling and
numbered, each ragged
and real ..
Queuing in line and such
vast numbers ..
Unsightly, uneven in row
upon row ..
Yet as yet, still frightfully
ordered
and neatly composed ..
However,
take note, before long
the sounds
you shall hear will be those
of our tears
forming and falling, in some
kind of obscene
and collective defeat ..
Indeed ..
What began as a trickle,
now rages
outrageously, like a swift
flowing river
of saline corroding, all that
it touches enroute ..
So hark and come closer ..
Pray what
can you taste, through
your nose,
your palms, your tongue
and your throat ..
No doubt nothing but fear
and adrenaline ..
So fight it, come closer
stand directly
behind me and hold fast
to my skirts
Oh’ and pray, keep both
your eyes tightly shut ..
For I am afraid
whilst there may be no
scenic route near ..
There may yet be more
than enough,
sorry sights, for both of us ..
And be sure
not to look at the babies ..
Torn from their
own mothers breasts,
nor at too many freshly
dug graves
that might otherwise,
whisper
your name, as you pass ..
And if you can
keep far away from the
lime pits because
they will blind and will
burn you ..
While the dogs roam
everywhere
free and unchecked ..
Snapping blindly
and drawing blood if
they can, or they think
they can ..
And don’t be fooled
by the teeth overflowing
from buckets ..
Each pulled for the gold
they contain ..
But now and then tho’
more randomly
for nothing but fun ..
Then later,
shorn like beasts for
the hair on
their heads from which
we all make
first rate ghetto blankets
these days and our
famed winter mattresses ..
But instead, fall soundly
asleep without
heads full of nightmares ..
Or blinded by
glare from the arc lamps ..
Bouncing off
yellow stained cloth stars
haphazardly set
against a backdrop of hate ..
Just ripe for pinning
come morning, to writhing
grey mountains
piled high with blue striped
pyjamas ..
Smelling maybe more thirties
perhaps, than two
thousand and twenty something ..
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Comments6
That horror resurrected in prosaic clarity will bring shudders and more to those reading your avidly penned descriptions of the thirties with its despicable behaviour of uncaring insanity - - with lessons learnt the future should never produce sights and sounds of such crowds forming again --- or at least we hope so with all our heart............x
I don't know what got into us both .. I mean me and my pen .. a sign of these uncertain time ... perhaps .. glad you could see beyond the moment tho Fay .. x
“What began as a trickle.” Your phrase conjures visceral and tactile image and as you build the story we journey with and we learn. Nice write, great read. You got it going on.
P. S. I took the Title as a play on that famous Smokey Robinson song. “Just like Pagliacci did, I try to keep my sadness hid, smilin’ in the public eye , while in my lonely room I cry”
Thanks a bundle Bobby O .. a much appreciated visit sir
A sensitive write N - though I don't know anything about Smokey R.
sounds fishy to me ... 🐟🐠🐟🐭
A fine write, Neville. Nature does not reward children who won't learn.
You aint no ordinary mosaicist now are ya .. Hawkeye sees the world as it is and I am so glad he's on my side .. Cheers Jez
I share your anxiety about where the future will go. Once again, the Hate-mongers are rising.
It is without doubt, a most disconcerting time Phil .. Thanks for the visit and for reassuring me I'm not the only one .. Neville
'of our tears
forming and falling, in some
kind of obscene
and collective defeat ..
Indeed ..
What began as a trickle,
now rages
outrageously, like a swift
flowing river'
(so true, worded so acute)
'So fight it, come closer
stand directly
behind me and hold fast
to my skirts
Oh’ and pray, keep both
your eyes tightly shut ..'
(Ha! You lead I'll try n keep-up
dear wise Kilt loving, exhibitionist
😉)
'Bouncing off
yellow stained cloth stars
haphazardly set
against a backdrop of hate ..
Just ripe for pinning
come morning, to writhing
grey mountains
piled high with blue striped
pyjamas ..'
(We, MUST NEVER FORGET!
how it all started, with those
'yellow stained cloth stars'
to identify and BRAND
those, deemed inhuman
and hated, because
'some'
dogmatic text, millenniums ago
blamed them
for the murder of a character
labelled
as a deity creator, and 'Father'
to all of existence
including, those very same Jews!
'some'
try to forget, by the logic of that
'same'
lore, they worship
how these very same Jews
are also 'HIS' children...
yeah, what 'Father' wouldn't appreciate
the MASS, attempted Genocide
of 'HIS children'..
yeah, stuff that up your
self righteous, 'GOOD BOOK'
you brainwashed zealot morons)
...................................................... Thank you M .. N 🕊️
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