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(page 85 of 93)

Terrestrial Illumination (2014) no. 259
Poem by Duane Locke
Previous (page 84)  |  Return to Contents  |  Next (page 86)

Terrestrial Illumination (2014) no. 259
Poem by Duane Locke

(page 85 of 93)







Keywords: eleventh transmission, poetry, fiction, photography, visual art, spoken word, film, socially engaged,
political, human experience, writing, satire, photojournalism, activist art, activism, socially conscious, art

Terrestrial Illumination (2014) no. 259

by Duane Locke

A space of tree shadows, the darkness seemed
To have blue eyes and was watching. There
Is a gratification in being observed even by darkness.
From the eyes there were speckled sparks
As if the darkness were near-sighted, wore thick lensed glasses.
These specks of flashing light only happened
When the wind blew the entangled leaves apart
And let in light from the distant fire called the “sun.”

The darkness even seemed on this Sunday
To have vocal cords and a mouth. The darkness spoke,
Spoke more like a buzzing, the words could be identified.
There was noise, but no communication.

It was a graveyard, surrounded by a fence of stacked stones
Held together by cement. The stones were smeared
With black Chalie Chaplin moustaches, but no faces.
Now and then there were islands of green lichen,
That were shaped like lips opening for a kiss.

The gate had fallen and rusted. Between the rust flakes
That were golden in the sunlight grew bright purple thistles,
The appearances was that no one had visited in years,
And it might be a place of buried unwanted children,
Parents who were hated and abandoned, and spouses
That were hated by their mates quickly after weddings.

The graves looked as if they had never been visited.
Once the graves were mound of red clay earth, but
Now had been rain flattened and the graves appeared pinkish.
There were no tombstones, no stone angels, no cement lambs.

Finally, I found a marker. It said these graves contain
The not-yet born, the wiser ones, the intelligent ones,
The ones with deep emotions, the ones with empathy.
They were different from others,
For they were the few who had the ability
To choose who would be their parents.  So far,
No one had found the parents they wanted.
The ones in the graves had been buried for centuries,
But I noticed the inscription was dated yesterday.


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