landscapes II

what do you see in your landscape?
under the browns and greens and
brick and stone?
the people mining?
the underwater rivers carrying off the dead?
tunnels, caverns?
echoing chambers?
choirs of burrowing worms
clambering and clawing between the rocks
and soil?

it’s dark isn’t it?

rain trickles down through the cracks
forming invisible waterfalls
some as thin as threads of mycorrhizal fungi
others mighty as volcanic vents
and voices from the floating dead
they pass through this subterranean world
without a care it seems
for the light has been extinquished from their eyes
the sun exhausted
demons and gods quelled in the name of death
coal face and pick axe
pit props and shaft air
warm like exhaled breath
and then

they are no more
and this is no more

and we are gone
called for
ushered on to a new beginning
somewhere bright where fake angels sing
or somewhere warm and comforting
where we can be free
and the conversation is carried on

 

(in the light of day I decided to edit – a little)

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landscapes

what do you see in your landscape?
under the browns and greens and
brick and stone?
the people mining?
the underwater rivers carrying the dead?
tunnels, caverns, echoing chambers?
choirs of burrowing worms
clambering and clawing between the rocks
and soil?
dark isn’t it?
rain trickles down through the cracks
forming invisible waterfalls
some as thin as threads of silk
others mighty as volcanic vents
and voices from the floating dead
they pass through this subterranean world
without a care it seems
for the light has been exhausted from their eyes
the sun eternally extinquished
demons and gods quelled in the name of death
coal face pick axe pit prop
the shaft air warm like an exhaled breath
and then they are no more
this is no more
we are gone
called for
ushered to a new beginning
somewhere bright where angels sing
somewhere warm and comforting
somewhere we can be free
and the conversation is carried on

 
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/legend/

in a hole

in a hole

grubbing about

black truffled soil

snouting with pouts

a clawed devil pitcher

grappling blind looks

this mole-eyed watcher

tunnels trenched foot

in the dirt demon darkness

wormed thoughts tickle roots

sniffling and snuffling

guffawing great hoots

lost to the shadows

wearing jackshitty boots

shod to the marrow

black clods crumble books

in a last wasteland wordscape

killer kisses are blown

quicksand tragic faces

turfed walls tumble down

with a gargle and choke

hemophiliac blood flows

thrown from life’s saddle

never knowing what goes

in the twist of a tale

cockchafing cockroached

mankind’s mother lizard

regrown and reproached

unthinking unkilling

eternal misrest

left in a hole

grubbing about in a vest 

 

 

(With this piece I wanted to combine several different images in order to create one complete theme. I started by thinking how it would feel to be stuck down a hole unable to get out. The scenario turns somewhat nightmarish with the addition of (Lord of the Flies pig) and burrowing mole references. The darkness and shadows represent the threat of anxiety and depression. There is fear too. Written on or just after the 100th anniversary of the battle of the Somme it was difficult not to ignore the ghastliness of the trenches. Grappling blind looks is a play on grappling hooks. Likewise jackshitty boots for jackboots and jack shit as in nothing or not knowing / understanding anything. There are other war references to be found but mostly by the second half the imagery is sufficiently confused and mixed up that it could apply to any of these thoughts. I’ll leave you interpret the remaining lines as you wish. All I would say is that by mixing imagery and blurring definitions I hope there is enough freedom on behalf of the reader to apply his or her own meanings. What do you think?)