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Literature Text
I traveled alone all that Hallow's Eve,
a living spirit amongst the walking dead,
and gazed at the many goblin faces twisted in feigned horror,
poised for torment and the pleasure it would bring,
ready to consume all fright with a hungry thoughtlessness.
Captains of war, painted and armed, patrolled the streets.
Accountable orders were brandished with 9mm authority: "Disperse!"
Bravado spewed forth like blackened, age-old blood.
A retort echoed from a few houses down,
a "Crack!" delivered from another Jr. Captain
as he ran to his next confectionery deployment.
I heard voices all that night;
the wind carried their singsong chat.
I channeled dark visions;
saw the final form of our expectations
garbed in our myriad of selfishness and self-importance.
I walked naked with realization:
one hundred years to live,
ten thousand times to die.
Without my mask ~my shield~,
I pay the price as the pariah.
The clown seemed the wisest of the bunch.
Resplendent in her bright pantaloons, colorful face,
and many baubles, her sad eyes saw the most.
But she had the air of someone trying to cheer themselves up
rather than the rest of us.
Perhaps that's why they are both loved and feared.
They wear on the outside, what we long for on the inside.
The hour was cresting,
as moon-shadows drifted about
and the weyward ghouls were waning.
The chants began to fade.
Yet I am called, my drifting spirit sees,
a foggy cloud waiting for me.
Wyrd sisters linger for foul and fair.
Still about was an occasional hero,
the light of do-good glowed from his visage,
thought the face was always masked
so his identity would remain unknown.
His eyes seemed to not quite understand
this glamour against those he wished to aid.
"Bang!" the captain shouted,
as I clutched my chest with mock horror.
Dying I fell, much to his pleasure!
The goblin, with his witch sidekick,
howled and cackled as I dropped to the dirt.
A fine jest, as they moved on
and screamed for their treats.
The tricks already dispensed.
Garbed in their roles we playfully assign
with little though as to why.
And I walked,
…all that Hallow's Eve.
a living spirit amongst the walking dead,
and gazed at the many goblin faces twisted in feigned horror,
poised for torment and the pleasure it would bring,
ready to consume all fright with a hungry thoughtlessness.
Captains of war, painted and armed, patrolled the streets.
Accountable orders were brandished with 9mm authority: "Disperse!"
Bravado spewed forth like blackened, age-old blood.
A retort echoed from a few houses down,
a "Crack!" delivered from another Jr. Captain
as he ran to his next confectionery deployment.
I heard voices all that night;
the wind carried their singsong chat.
I channeled dark visions;
saw the final form of our expectations
garbed in our myriad of selfishness and self-importance.
I walked naked with realization:
one hundred years to live,
ten thousand times to die.
Without my mask ~my shield~,
I pay the price as the pariah.
The clown seemed the wisest of the bunch.
Resplendent in her bright pantaloons, colorful face,
and many baubles, her sad eyes saw the most.
But she had the air of someone trying to cheer themselves up
rather than the rest of us.
Perhaps that's why they are both loved and feared.
They wear on the outside, what we long for on the inside.
The hour was cresting,
as moon-shadows drifted about
and the weyward ghouls were waning.
The chants began to fade.
Yet I am called, my drifting spirit sees,
a foggy cloud waiting for me.
Wyrd sisters linger for foul and fair.
Still about was an occasional hero,
the light of do-good glowed from his visage,
thought the face was always masked
so his identity would remain unknown.
His eyes seemed to not quite understand
this glamour against those he wished to aid.
"Bang!" the captain shouted,
as I clutched my chest with mock horror.
Dying I fell, much to his pleasure!
The goblin, with his witch sidekick,
howled and cackled as I dropped to the dirt.
A fine jest, as they moved on
and screamed for their treats.
The tricks already dispensed.
Garbed in their roles we playfully assign
with little though as to why.
And I walked,
…all that Hallow's Eve.
I started this one for Halloween but didn't quite finish it in time. I would soon let it finish on it's own rather than force it. I also took the picture myself tonight. I wanted one of my own to go with this piece. I hope it hits home and makes you think.
~qp
~qp
Comments8
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A lot of food for thought re the Occupy movement and the government reaction. btw, you left the T off of "thought" at the end of the next-to-last stanza.