especially in unremarked graves,
never rest easy.
out of their tombs,
polite skin peeled away
making you confront the rot.
bringing the deterioration
of the past to the present
and they rest
only after they have truly been fed.
Photo by Simon Wijers on Unsplash
Song Choice: Zombie Stomp by Ozzie Osbourne
Liner Notes for this Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings post.
Very perceptive and evocative, Rommy!ReplyDelete
Wisdom and truth conveyed in a truly wonderful, apt metaphor!ReplyDelete
LOL, well if I get a chance I'm always going to use a wild metaphor.Delete
This I can relate to... very well! That rage wants to burn... time tempers it but it's there..waiting! Sigh.ReplyDelete
Yep, even if you think it isn't there's always a live ember waiting to start a fire.Delete
"They claw out of their tombs," like the zombies, still at their old rotten stuff. Nasty is hard to fix, my dad did sort of, to the family and wife, but not to me.ReplyDelete
Sorry to hear that, Jim. :(Delete
I cannot recall experiencing this kind of rage .. then again does it mean I am not fully aware of the world around me? Your provocative poem has made me ponder.ReplyDelete
Consider yourself blessed then! It's not something I'd wish on anyone.Delete
What we bury takes root... the good and bad of it!ReplyDelete
If someone manages to still enrage you after they are dead, then they win.Airbrush them out of existence...you win .ReplyDelete
That's definitely one way to look at itDelete
Thought-provoking and well written, Rommy!ReplyDelete