Archive for November 24, 2008

When the Red Mist Comes

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , on November 24, 2008 by dc

There are no solutions when the red mist comes,
The whispers,
The green lights,
The violence on pavements,

Under microscopes we punch bacteria
And wrestle DNA to the ground.

The stench of anger is a sickness,
Gravel in the mouths of children,
Punched walls and broken language,
It’s a wonder hearts don’t snap.

There are no solutions when the red mist comes,
The tears,
The spittle,
The gutter words and whistles,

On top of pedestals we break legs
And tumble to the ground.

We are nothing but our actions
And it’s a wonder we’re alive,
Time is a healer but time he won’t arrive,

To land on our feet is to lie like we’ve won,
But there are no solutions when the red mist comes.

Poetry.net