The End

The End

Poetry, like life, is often ambiguous. Deciphering its meaning is both its challenge as well as its reward. In this vein, I can hope you will find your own reward in the following Poem of the Week.

has come and gone. It strong-armed

into sleep, slipped beneath the blood-

brain barrier, insistent, saying

now. Back and back it pushed,

a commonplace come-on,

knife withdrawing from a forked

tongue before touching down

where my thoughts ossified:

I didn’t want to die, don’t, not now,

ringing, self-styled as a bell,

incision scrawled like the crackle

of a loudspeaker. Is this thing on?

Sound gashed, amplified

into the beginning of a bloody horiaon.

  • Jim Johnstone
This entry was posted in America, Death and Dying, Grief, Health and wellness, Medicine, Poetry, Thoughts & Musings. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to The End

  1. Ana Daksina says:

    My principle reason for reading your site is that you almost always skip all the academic insistence upon ambiguity as “poetry” and display the real stuff.

    It’s understandable that once in a while someone with the letters behind their name which testifiy to their success in bowing to mediocrity will try to convince you that your taste isn’t educated until you can call confusion an emotion and say that “poem” did a great job of inspiring it.

    Don’t listen when that happens, my friend. What you do is what we really need.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s