© Copyrighted 2010 By Frank F. Atanacio For my wonderful children
Everyone feared,
after the explosion,
the grounds were cleared
of wreckage and wounded,
the soil stained red,
even after the removal of the dead, cannons were cooling,
death was drooling,
counting the record number of ghosts, that’s what he enjoyed most,
however, order was slowly
and deliberately returning,
the night remained cold,
and it was a sight to behold.
His mind was cloudy,
his dress was dowdy,
a crumpled suit,
and ripped mackintosh, his hair was wild,
his manner was mild,
almost apologetic,
clumsy because of his size, homeless, helpless,
and sometimes he cries, as he looked toward the sky, wishing he would die.
Nothing gained,
when nothing is said,
but he would dread
the insanity,
that would fill his head,
the doctor looked down
At the young boy,
with nothing left to show,
weighing need to know
against the medical right to know, the simplicity of youth
was still effecting a cost,
despite all the rites of passage,
then there were cries,
as the doctor gazed
into the boy’s determined eyes,
insanity filled the skies,
the doctor insisted
as insanity persisted,
but there was little assurance to be given, could it really be considered living? Sanity and insanity,
are suppose to be the same,
with it, no shame,
just sharing the same name.
The mental wounds were deep, spirits would weep,
but she allowed time for sleep, her dreams roiled uneasily
with punishing abuse,
the belts left welts,
because her father had a short fuse, when her father’s gravelly voice was heard,
she had no choice,
but to scream in agonizing pain, she burrowed deeper into her pillow, and tried to ignore it,
then she’d shoot up and sit,
sheet stuck to her head,
as she stayed in bed,
still feeling trapped
in the remnants of her nightmare, that happened decades ago,
she was unable to let it go,
her strength tapped,
her mind snapped,
the abuse capped,
remnants of her life.
After trapping,
the beast let out a strained grunt, it was like a branch snapping, the beast then turned around yanked the trapper down,
pinned him to the ground,
roles reversed,
as the trapper did his best, but the beast,
jammed its claws into his chest, then the beast glared,
the trapper stared,
the beast pushed in deeper, as the trapper’s arms flared, only for another few seconds...
Silence was weeping,
while he was sleeping,
the problem it caused,
when life paused,
but realized,
it had already crossed that fine line, and, like the fleeting of youth, there was no turning back,
the light gave in to night,
and everything just went black.
His emotions would melt,
the man in the mirror
didn’t look like he felt,
he took a deep breath
and tightened his belt,
the man in the mirror
had an in-line nose,
steel-blue eyes,
a face that held no lies,
his reflection
had no detection
of the true scars,
although in theory it should, the man in the mirror just stood, hiding the gloom,
causing the doom,
then he turned away
and faced the room,
still straight and true,
bodies everywhere,
and he stood with no fear, no care, and death near,
blood splattered, life tattered, mirror shattered.
There were souls to trade,
deals to be made,
the demons,
lurking in the deepest shade,
where the spirits had arrived first, waiting to clench their thirst,
human limbs were dropped,
and ground into the gravel,
time had stopped,
as the images traveled
toward the sky,
where haunted angels would cry, and hope would die,
some were trained,
others chained,
while the nightmares topped,
forgiveness stopped,
as the sun dropped,
shadows rippled
across the sweltering terrain,
sanity crippled,
as this lost humanity begged for rain.
The ghost’s chains would rattle, souls herded like cattle,
and right after the battle,
the ghost peered out
over the barely frozen bay, only the echos would shout, and the dead had nothing to say, there was a blood trail,
forming over the ice,
and poor luck
often forces soldiers to fail.
He felt no hope,
as he dangled from a rope, his fingers dug at the cord
around his neck,
there was so much fear,
as he tried to suck in some air, but he couldn’t suck none in, no matter how thin,
his spine would crack,
as the cord continued the attack, he gritted his teeth,
and felt his lips peel back,
his mind sagged,
his memories dragged,
as his throat gurgled and gagged, death washed through the room, his soul, disgusted,
and it took in a shiver of shame, until life was finally tamed, and there was no one to blame.
The angel, trying to avoid defeat, he heaved harder,
the demon’s feet
toed at the floor,
as he was hoisted beyond reach, blood stained the door,
as the demon kicked frantically, trying to knock the angel away,
in mid-air he’d sway,
and hope just faded that day,
the demon expelled breath after breath, a few more kicks,
then death.
His life was over,
he was living in his last days,
his life was done,
and regrets came in so many ways, father and son,
he wanted to spend considerable hours, just having fun,
he had no adventures, no sharing,
missed out on the love and caring,
no sitting and listening
to all the problems his son had,
he’ll die unhappy,
and oh so sad,
he had the urge to strike death,
but he was the blame,
and no one was there during his last breath, what pity, what a shame.
She enjoyed the thrill,
blood everywhere,
during the kill,
she would leave them for dead, they feared her,
at least they said
they feared her,
and that she knew,
they feared her because
she knew voodoo,
and hexes of all kinds,
she could bend a man
to do her will,
then she’d kill,
again, she’d kill and kill,
and kill...
Tears would stream,
the flutter in her eyes,
the gleam,
then she had the kind of dream,
in which some great, enigmatic plane flies through her sleep,
dropping feathers on the floor,
opening odd shape doors,
then dropping a small
ticking dream,
as sheep would call,
then come in on a count,
and the moon would fall,
as a cow takes the leap of faith,
the ticking dream explodes,
fairy dust on the roads,
then the alarm sounds,
fist pounds,
and the toast pops up.
Selfish,
he wanted someone else dreaming of his painful death, cruel,
extremely bitter,
mental ridicule,
mental abuse,
huge tears,
dark fears,
fits and outbursts,
questions hitting the fan, why, why, why,
did he want to die, die, die? He was hanging
from a beam
so the sight would
haunt their dreams.
First,
there was an exploding sound,
everyone looked around,
then the plane was going down,
the captain heard
his co-pilot utter a curse word,
but before he could take another breath,
and prepare himself for death,
the plane exploded in a cataclysm of light and sound, and moments later,
only debris hit the ground.
Her nightmare popped,
and she feared,
so the woman stopped,
stared,
realized what was happening,
found herself skewered on the man’s glare, she ducked without turning around, as she was violently tossed to the ground, sanity clunked shut,
and she winced at the sound,
she stared at him,
almost frozen in his fury,
she fought back the cries,
darkness filled the skies,
and she just started looking at him, dead in his eyes.
There was no one else to trust,
as the soldier snarled in apparent disgust, but the triumphant glint
in his eyes,
made his enemy’s stomach turn,
his emotions would burn,
his enemy echoed,
his voice a bubbling growl,
hoping his comrades were on the prowl, anger he just couldn’t contain,
he bared his teeth,
which were shattered and stained.
Lives do sometimes fail,
it leaves a long trail,
pity most of all,
light would shine,
darkness would stand tall,
when death falls,
spirits and ghosts would call,
life peeked,
and death twisted toward it,
unintimidated,
and it seeped right to the core, life just didn’t fit any more,
life slapped at death,
and decided to sacrifice its last breath, then it would drop to the ground, distracted for a fraction of a second, then there would be no sound.
It was everything she’d face,
she was the guardian over the human race, the blood of shame rose,
and made her face hot,
her emotion flows,
and her reality was shot,
as she gritted her teeth,
and responded with a blistering silence, she found herself in the midst of confusion, like living through an illusion,
brother killing brother,
no respect for each other,
rage stormed,
and it needed no concentration,
as she spoke suddenly,
spreading her hands in frustration,
lives are lost,
people die,
God pays the total cost,
and ghosts and spirits cry,
as the humans won’t try,
and the tired wind blows,
But what shows
is the need for greed,
as life continues to spoon-feed
the corpse for weeks,
looking for God’s sympathy,
and avoiding the devil when he peeks.
Life had death all arranged,
it was very interesting,
yet very strange,
because life was designed to fail, it leaves its mark
on a dark lonely trail,
there were only two key witnesses, the sun and the moon,
and when they’re gone,
everything would be over soon.
The white winged angel had nothing to say, God’s base voice like low thunder
called, as the angel walked away,
he felt God’s questioning eyes
follow him toward the skies,
the stars would glaze,
and there was a subtle
chastisement in God’s trailing gaze, because of what the angel did,
human life spoiled,
a twinge of resentment boiled
in God as the angel just flew away, his halo fell,
perhaps he was going to take his life, God could tell,
he’d seen that look,
and that’s all it took.
Unchained,
but drained,
he turned a glinting eye,
almost with a hint of fascination, at first he dared not try,
then he reached out
with all the piled up frustration, his spirit would protest in a shout, as he grasped his captor by the neck, his captor leaned back,
not expecting the attack,
sneered,
glared without fear,
with rifle in hand,
knew he had total command,
actually firing it,
common sense would sit,
causing a man’s demise,
but for the first time
in his criminal life,
seen a flaming doubt rise,
a sinner could never be a winner, his body would shimmer
and his emotions would simmer, as his superiority grew thinner.
He fought hard,
but he would almost fold,
his hands were cold,
his fingers aching,
he flexed them fitfully,
his body was shaking,
he felt the wind bend,
then he thought about the end,
he listened, watched, turned,
he listened again,
as the cold burned,
but it was the same,
no one came,
his legs twitched convulsively
beneath the snow,
then frost bite would show,
life would slow, and the oxygen low, he turned slightly to shake off the worries, but death whispered at him,
he began gasping, and grasping,
as death screamed, shattered all dreams, and hope rushed away like streams, it was deafening, furious,
loud and yet curious,
like the exaggerated barking
of a terrorized dog,
and finally life sailed in a cold fog.
His face red,
he knew that he killed her,
and he thought she was dead,
his whole body suddenly numb,
she stood directly in front of him, he recognized her,
he actually had no choice,
his knees weak,
and he could find no voice,
he couldn’t speak,
not even utter a word,
nothing came out of him
nothing was heard,
she knew his face told clearly
what he was not saying,
his mind all but broke,
as she spoke,
how hollow the words sounded,
as his blood raced and his heart pounded, he shuddered and turned cold,
sweat broke out on his face,
and her death left no trace,
his whole body seemed to steam,
as if he was lost in a bad dream,
he leaned forward,
but she was gone,
he shook his head,
something was wrong,
she was really dead,
he was there and her ghost was here.
He was clearly hit,
reality would sit,
rage was the perfect fit, but instead,
he hobbled,
his brain wobbled,
and for a few moments
his eyesight blurred,
and his speech slurred,
he felt blood drain,
and there was so much pain, it was a drive-by,
his mother cried,
death floated in,
and life resentfully complied.
She cried,
there were so many secrets
that came out when he died,
her life paused,
a dozen emotions passing
through her eyes,
the lies, the countless lies,
flaming hatred would rise,
her past was torn and tortured,
and she didn’t even know it,
hatred continued to grow,
then the casket fell to the floor,
body fell out, everyone would shout, she just smiled and hurried out the door.
It was insane,
he shook his head
as if to rattle his brain,
he was sweating
like a jungle rain,
he struggled between
his responsibility as a father and a husband,
he sensed the fear
in the horror involved here, a terminally sick child’s life, taken by the hands of his wife, he nearly choked,
there was no compassion,
as he saw it,
she fell to her knees to pray, he sadly turned and walked away, only a ghost would stay,
and God cried that day.
He was six feet under,
it was such a weird feeling,
he felt as if he was beneath
a claustrophobic ceiling,
he reached up toward the pine box,
and tried to reach the latch,
to the hatch,
he hadn’t realized how chilled he’d become, then he saw a wooden door,
and an oval rag rug on the floor,
two candles stood in tin sconces
that reflected their glow,
then fear would grow,
reality would then show,
and his ghost would flow,
his spirit was weeping,
and he suddenly realized,
he wasn’t sleeping.
Near the ocean side he would sit, and then a cold wind would hit,
his voice trickled off a bit,
deeply disturbed by what he saw come out of the water,
he would almost fall,
as his emotions slowed to a crawl, a shark puff out on the water
groaned toward him,
swallowing half a man,
the shark was in total command,
he heard human bone breaking,
he sighed heavily, shaking,
there was nothing he could do,
his helplessness would rattle,
as he glanced out at the one-sided battle, only his soul would grieve,
as he started to leave,
but hesitated one last moment to gaze, his silent eyes would glaze,
so much sadness that day,
as he turned away.
Suicide was his only choice,
as death eyed him,
and then he lowered his voice,
he expected a certain doom,
and a chilly tension blanketed the room, an angel stood barely beyond,
the air was dry,
and the sin he was about to commit caused the angel to crumble and cry, common sense rots,
then the shots,
the room fell silent,
the angel tried,
as death had its pride.
We’re all God’s creation,
but helpless,
as an angel watched in soul-sick frustration, humans destroying a nation,
as war filled their veins,
killing filled their brains,
and blood of the young drains,
death should come naturally, not taken, missile blasts wakened
the settling night,
with bright
orange flashes,
and bits of flaming materials, clashes, young boys would duck,
but the blasts in mid-air,
scatters, and rip up anything it struck, causing casualties and fear,
it would set fire to wood,
and burn everything it could,
the angel watched it shred flesh on contact, then another missile would attack,
soldiers turned their back,
but life was lost on impact,
God gave humans their own voice,
it was their choice,
as the body count rose,
this is what humans chose.
Many injured,
but many more dead,
a nurse backed away from the bed, the horror left traces,
as doctors kept working,
but there was no hope on their faces, death hovered in puffs,
as some soldiers were breathing only in the most uneven huffs,
another nurse watched, then turned, as the mental terror just burned, she wanted to cry,
as she did something to make him die, it wasn’t her fault,
it was simply a compassionate assault.
Her chin lifted,
her face turned rosy with emotion, and she shifted,
as if aware of all the eyes,
all the judgements,
and all the “whys,?”
The complexities of witches,
so often simplistic,
unrealistic,
in the minds of the ignorant,
a century would turn,
and still witches would hang and burn, the crowd gathered was large,
and she was found guilty,
sometimes of the same charge,
the gavel would bang,
the crowd would roar,
and then she’d hang.
He thought it was rather silly, when he saw his ghost float,
the cabin turned chilly,
so he’d put on an over-coat,
his mind unclear,
somewhat foggy,
his shoulders sagged,
his clothes was soggy,
his memories tagged,
and then bagged,
his future would tank,
his proud chest caved in,
his chin sank,
again it felt silly,
and the cabin turned suddenly chilly.
The cries of their children faded, the songs died,
the nights were recreated,
the wind stopped,
reality popped.
Night was coming again,
the air smelled faintly of blood, the grounds were littered with bodies, and death became everyone’s friend.
It was the aftermath of an invasion, children evacuated,
others being led to their deaths, so simple to do,
that, the devil knew.
Saving,
he wasn’t needing,
his head was bleeding,
brushing his sweaty hair
out of his eyes,
he sensed death was near,
as he heard the cries,
lost souls filled the skies,
he looked up with something like gratitude, his enemies were standing,
and death continued demanding,
he gave what he could,
he then closed his tired eyes,
praying to God until he dies.
Everything around him was a fantasy,
an animated bird sings,
he fell quickly to the ground,
and he heard the flapping of a large bird’s wings, as the bumble bees swarm around,
none of them ever stings,
they were just never quite close enough, he slumped further into this odd place,
crushed his hand over his weary face,
heart against his chest,
he
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