Written for Desperate Poetry

From birth we ought to know
your livid kiss
idling on every organ;

we sit awhile – say forty years -
think we know permanence
as the round and round,

days on a checkered calendar.
We can’t see or we won’t look
but you’re there

a gathered storm; 
your pleated darkness
slapping its thunder at our doors.

Living is a fixed term contract
yet we appeal every clause 
ignoring the sunflowers 

and rainbows 
that bleach or wither; 
the desiccated rat

its teeth stopped in quiet fury;
the leaves underfoot
softening to paste.

In such desperate blindness
we ignore your message...
woe betide

not being as special as we thought.

11 thoughts on “Equality

  1. We thought those blue skies would go on forever … Love how you personify the patient conclusion idly bleaching rainbows and leaves softening to paste. Saying so is a desperation that leads to truth. Thanks so for joining in, so good to read you again. – Brendan

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Great take on the premise. Who are we writing for here. and are they even listening…though their presence is a living fact..especially like this language: “but you’re there/a gathered storm; /your pleated darkness/

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Just amazing. I read the first stanza, had to stop. The read it again an the second stanza, had to stop. Every line landing it’s punch. Would have to quote the whole thing.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. You’ve folded a lot of wisdom in a handful of incredible lines and images. You know I’m a fan anyways Jo, but this one… every single line. Damn. Rainbows to the barred teeth of dead rats… no, not as special as we thought. Fortunate though, that poetry can swim in our bloodstreams like a deep dark beast.

    Liked by 1 person

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