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Mother—April 8, 2002
By
Raymond Brookter
Together,
We sit
apart in a room
Separated by Memory.
You once
wanted to remember for all, but
You know
you forgot do in remembrance
We
remember we forget.
We
forget the name of the man
Who
swore to love and Honor and obey as a child.
We
remember that you left him.
We
forget teenaged sisters’ closed arms to
Remember
their Open scars.
They
forgot to tell you to
Forget
the name of the men
Who take
you to remember who pays the bills
LOVE
To
remember there’s only one head on this horse
Honor
To
forget that you remember your dreams
OBEY
Perched,
a fading studio portrait eight years old hangs pierced
Upon a
nail
Long
abandoned in the wall.
A second
photograph with you
Apart
from us
Reminds
me, but not her,
Of we
Us
A
family.
We
remember to forget that in a fifteen-year old image on
the
Gray
smooth-grain wall that
We are
there.
There we
are and
Here we
are
Sitting
in remembrance
To agree
to forget.
Could I
know?
A king
weeps over the echoes of a daughter’s golden laughter.
All else
is memory done and undone by a kiss.
Love
after much joy, hope, and regret
All is
such a small sum in memory to forget.
* * *
* *
Nerve
By
Raymond Brookter
I act to clarify myself,
to actualize my essence in milk moonlight
To feel
Sense peeling off layers
of nerve, fidget fidget fidget.
Unforgiven me seen
senses unseen
Gathering loosely in the
corners of the room
Guiltily gazing at me
for release,
Unforgivable me.
So close to sensation,
so close to sensate,
so close.
Night within my flesh
Tears apart regrets of
the day
No way to explain
through shredding my existence
It moves when I move,
Moves when I move,
Moves when I move.
Unforgiving
So unforgiving.
It is not containment
but the guilt of freedom that measures
Movement of the
shimmering shades.
Sound you can see. Sight
you could smell.
Deep, dank disease roars
within me
Death is the feeling of
flight.
It is the tremble of
death
Eyes, ears, all judged
in the cover of night.
Can…can…can…can-you-get-to-that?
OHHHHHHH!
MamaMamamamamamamamamamamamamama
Mama…Is that
Is
that what you meant?
Ohhhhhhhh!
The
perils of sick, the perils of sickness
The
Perils of Sick
The
parade under defeat shrieks.
Raiding armies cry retreat.
Your
spirit-mind seeks release
There’s no escape from inner peace.
The perils of sick, the perils of
sick,
* * *
* *
The Perils of Sickness
By
Raymond Brookter
Can…can…can…can-you-get-to-that?
OHHHHHHH!
MamaMamamamamamamamamamamamamama.
Mama…Is that
Is
that, is that, is that, is that, is that
There’s no time to hallucinate
She
died three hundred sixty seconds to eight.
Is
that what you meant?!
It
is not containment but the guilt of freedom that
measures
Movement of the shimmering shades.
Sound you can see. Sight you could smell.
Deep, dank disease roars within me
Death is the feeling of flight.
It
is the tremble of Life
Sight, scent, all judged in the cover of night.
May I introduce you to my Queen?
* *
* * *
Reality Show
By
Raymond Brookter
Technological Illusions
Fictions
of the common man.
Chemical
births create confusion
Killing clowns retake the land.
Pulpitters chastise the masses.
Blood
flows from TV screens.
In
Formation…All Control
Information
All
control.
In
Formation…Follow the Leader.
All
control…Release of your Rage.
In
Formation…Be a Believer.
All
control…Prophets on the Stage.
In
Formation…All Control
Inform Nation…All Control
Information…All control Information.
Ahhhhhhhh…Do you feel
it?
Rage, pain, and rain renewed.
Ahhhhhhhh…Do you feel
it?
Eyes creep over ripped
bedsheets.
Ahhhhhhhh…Do you feel
it?
One Southern
night envy shrieks.
No need to bleat the
shepherd sleeps.
In
Formation…All Control
Information
All
control.
In
Formation…Seek out the Master.
All
control…Knowledge of the Plan.
In
Formation…Call down the Disaster.
All
control…Seconds slip through the Sand.
In
Formation…All Control
Inform Nation…All Control
Information…All control
Information.
Ohhhhhhhhh…Can you feel
it?
Name, fame, and shame
refrained.
Ohhhhhhhhh…Can you feel
it?
Tamed eyes glaze over
Glitter beams
Ohhhhhhhhh…Can you feel
it?
On a Nation’s screen as
Colors bleed
Ohhhhhhhhh…Can you feel
it?
In
Formation…All Control
Information
All
control.
In
Formation…All Control
Information
All
control.
Inform
Nation…Worlds set Aflame.
All
control…Tears shed for the Priest.
Inform Nation…Night whispers the Name.
All
control…Flesh gained for the Beast.
In
Formation…All Control
Inform Nation…All Control
Information…All control
Information.
Technological Illusions
Fictions of the common man.
Chemical births create confusion
Killing clowns retake the land.
Pulpitters chastise the masses.
Blood flows from TV screens.
In
Formation…All Control
Information
All
control.
In
Formation…Follow the Leader.
All
control…Release of your Rage.
In
Formation…Be a Believer.
All
control…Prophets on the Stage.
In
Formation…All Control
Inform Nation…All Control
Information…All control Information.
Ahhhhhhhh…Do you feel it?
Rage, pain, and rain renewed.
Ahhhhhhhh…Do you feel it?
Eyes
creep over ripped bedsheets.
Ahhhhhhhh…Do you feel it?
One
Southern night envy shrieks.
No need to bleat the shepherd
sleeps.
*
* * * *
windowshades
Is
that what you meant?
Is
that what you said?
In
these last days
These last ways
Blind sky seeps tears so gray at day and
Sparrows glide into Window Shades,
Window Shades.
In
Battalions we die
To
prove that we’re men
To
prove that we’re strong
We
go killing again.
War
and pain never cease
Many
battles we fought
There’s no searching for peace
It’s
release that we sought.
Is
that what you meant?
Is
that what you said?
In
these last days
These last ways
To
live on fallen knees
Wailing agony thrust against shattered
Shuttered
Window
Windowshades.
Pale
moon on us set
A
moment of dread
Memory and regret Pierces through you like lead.
Motherless in the cold
Rain
and misery mesh to devour your soul
While your pleading for flesh.
Is
that why you cried?
Is
that why you shake?
A
minute of strife
A
second to take an innocent life
A
vow that you break
A
moveable regret
Is that what
you meant?
Is
that what you said?
Moths float into flames…and
Willows speak through sleeping windows
Window
Shades.
* *
* * *
posted 21
August 2007 |
