It's time to grow up and start seeing the world the way it really is and not the way we want it to be.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Flowers for Armageddon




the petals were yellow with a dusting of rusty red along the edge
the stalks were slender but sturdy and green leaves grew near their base
there were three flowers on the scarred and dry-rotting ledge
when he awoke they faced east towards the morning sun
by sunset they’d turned west in their terra cotta vase
but he was not patient enough to time their turning
patience was a skill that only lately he was learning

he promised himself to one day give the ledge a coat of paint
and make faint marks on the clean white surface
where the flowers shadows fell across the wood
and thus, from solstice to solstice, trace the seasons as they came and went
but the flowers, perennials, in winter drew back into their bulbs
the idea, though charming and distracting, was no good
still he knew when winter came by the passing of the flowers
and on sultry summer days their shadows tracked the hours

each day before sunrise he sprayed the flowers with rain water
collected in the barrels at the corners of his house
on pleasant days he set the flowers outside on the porch railing
they were his children, the three of them, two sons and a daughter
and unlike his first three children they had no legs to walk away
these stayed and their constancy calmed him without failing
until one spring the bulbs refused to break up from the ground
and the twenty-two he kept for varmints still held one round



No comments:

Post a Comment

Pages

There was an error in this gadget

Suggested reading:

  • A History of the End of the World by Jonathan Kirsch
  • American Colossuss: The Triumph of Capitalism 1865 - 1900 by H. W. Brands
  • American Colossuss: The Triumph of Capitalism 1865 - 1900 by H. W. Brands
  • Life After Death by Alan Segal
  • Radicals for Capitalism by Brian Doherty
  • Radicals for Capitalism by Brian Doherty
  • The Science of Evil by Simon Baron-Cohen
  • The Science of Evil by Simon Baron-Cohen
  • Traitor to His Class: The Privileged Life and Radical Presidency of Franklin Delano Roosevelt
  • Traitor to His Class: The Privileged Life and Radical Presidency of Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Followers

About Me

My photo
I am from West Virginia. Born in New Martinsville to a minister's family. Traveled around West Virginia and Southern Ohio growing up. The only stability I got was from my mother's side of the family in Boone County. My Great Grandfather on my father's side was preaching in Madison during the Mine Wars. He ran for the state legislature on a pro-union ticket and won only to have the coal companies tie the results up in court so he ended serving only one day out of this term. My Grandfather on my mother's side stood with the miner's at Blair Mountain and died of Black Lung when I was still in my teens. I was raised a Conservative Christian...not a Fundamentalist. Strict separation of church and state based on the understanding that what makes for a good politician is pretty much the opposite of what makes a good Christian. I'm politically radical in that I believe in one man/one vote and the only way to have political equality is to have economic equality. I'm an atheist because once I accepted the fact of my own mortality I found no need for belief in God.