Black Curse

by GB   May 16, 2016


Black Curse

I thought I saw complexity of feelings
poisoned his eyes,
crusting in many forms:

inferiority,
frustration,
paranoia,

and perhaps grudge.

Volcanic springs
beyond Freud's fabrications,
led him like a puppet.

Shaky hands
asking questions of
"how" and "why".

Exhausted veins popping
from pale, aged skin.

and sore feet
seeking for remains

"on the land of Oil".

---

For a second,
he might have stared at me
and I peeked in silent sympathy
then decided to walk,

to avoid bleeding words on his lips
and I just walked.

I just walked...

8


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Latest Comments

  • 6 years ago

    by mossgirl19

    Samia, this is beautifully written but heart-gripping at the same time.

  • 7 years ago

    by Maple Tree

    Judge Comment:

    What a touching and heart gripping poem this was! Styled with a unique take on a person who is ill, or elderly... Breathtaking... emotionally gripping and beautiful!

  • 7 years ago

    by Brenda

    Congratulations on your win! Such a powerful write, reminded me of someone who is very old, dying, mad at the world, not ready for all that's about to happen, lashes out at whoever gets close enough. Very intense! Well done-

  • 7 years ago

    by Mr. Darcy

    Hello,

    firstly congratulations on the win - I must admit this poem of yours past me by and I am sorry for that.

    The title made me think of 'The black death' but after reading it through, its more like a metaphor for oil/ greed, or perhaps a person operating on the fringes of accepted society?

    The word 'poisoned' suggested to me pollution; maybe literal or maybe by society. Should this word be poisoning?

    The feeling that I am left with is guilt ridden regret for doing nothing, just walking away. The fraction of a second where doing something, making contact was imagined is somehow more regretful and so more powerful.

    All the best,

    Michael

  • 7 years ago

    by GB

    Thank you for your lovely comment, you can call me Samia.

    I saw this person last Sunday, I said to myself that I must write something about him, something must be said despite my silence.

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