I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')


These poems are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.

25 August 2011

Violence

You were glaring through the window
when your face broke like crazy paving.
Zig-zag lines and angles fragmented the planes,
just missing your eyes and your nostrils
but cutting across your lips and severing both ears.

Then, as the glass shattered and fell,
jagged pieces crumbling slow to the ground,
your face was smooth again except for the scowl.
Your knuckles, though, still raised, were bloody.


Not a recent event, people, and not directly involving me. A poem from early 2009, just revised. Submitted to dVerse Open Link Night 6 

20 comments:

  1. I know someone just like this--perhaps we all do--I've often wondered how her face doesn't just crack, or her head explode. You do an excellent job of creating this event and making it entirely believable, metaphor or not. Good stuff, and nice touch with the ears--they're not being used anyway, right?

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  2. Nice capture of that violence scene...close enough to feel and be affected by it; yet survive it.

    Thanks for sharing this ~

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  3. Very chilling to imagine such an event being reality. This was vivid, and I could clearly picture the gruesome scene.

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  4. Thank you all; delighted to have succeeded in horrifying you; lol.

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  5. Violence often get us in our unguarded moments. This poem gives me the creeps, shows effective use of words. Very good piece!

    Hank

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  6. whew...makes me wonder what you saw out side the window to have such a reaction...this gave me pause for sure...

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  7. Thank you, Brian and kaykuala. 'Twasn't me, Brian, but a man whose anger I was observing. And it is metaphorical.

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  8. quite chilling. glad you weren't on the receiving end of that anger.

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  9. Reading people's faces is an art - this was obviously a full scale novel in the making...

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  10. wow rosemary...this is a strong and powerful write...stopped breathing while reading it..

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  11. Thank you Ikkolp, Jinsky and Claudia. And thanks to dVerse! Had I not wanted something for Open Link Night #6, I might never have resurrected and improved this from my 'not quite working' folder. I'm so glad I did.

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  12. Wow, what a captivating 2 lines to start, read them twice before I continued with the rest of the poem.

    Like Claudia, I stopped breathing.

    I picure this as someone sitting in their car, and another smashes the glass with something hard.

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  13. I am glad that this image was metaphorical for you. The poem recalls something very real for me. You took me back. What a compelling poem!

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  14. Finally, I'm glad that at least it's in the past for you!

    Jannie, it's interesting that, like a work of fiction, it raises different images in different people's minds. Not that it's entirely fictional. I was watching the way the man's face changed in anger, and he happened to be standing in front of a window so it was a small stretch to imagine I was seeing him through broken glass. He also had his fist raised as if to punch the glass in rage, but he didn't. I imagined the scene as if he had not restrained himself.

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  15. i saw it as you wrote it, with a face through shattered glass and the knuckles last.

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  16. What a treat to discover your blog and your poetry! Thank you so much for visiting my blog too! I also loved reading about your background!

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  17. Thank you all for your kind comments.

    Ed, although I'm happy for people to interpret this in their own ways, I'm also glad someone shared my own image!

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