Aftermath

 { I wrote this a few months after Hurricane Michael destroyed parts of Florida and Alabama. I grew up dealing with hurricanes. This is an effort to capture how a person might feel after one of these storms.}

 

Puddles fluoresce in now brilliant sunshine

We wade through them in agony and awe;

Broken structures ache

We hear their moans of creaking as wind still insults them;

Yesterday’s treasures now wastes of trash

That lie in piles

Soon to reek an acrid smell;

Sky still freaky ugly turquoise

Lost clouds, left behind, fly confused;

We marvel at destructive design

Weird beauty left scattered

By Wind

By Wave

By Weather

By Indiscriminate Chance.

Michael you have left a mess

Go join your sister Florence

In Atlantic dissipation:

We remain to struggle

To Rebuild

In The 

Aftermath. 

Disconnected Linguistic Diplomacy

December 10, 2018

I have nothing to say.

So when you listen you won't hear
Anything
Except
Your own thoughts.

But then, when I do speak,
I
Still feel like
You are just listening to 
Your own thoughts.

When you finally do speak words
I feel them pushing and shoving
With deliberate force.
Woven from Pride and Desire,
Seemingly soft and consoling;
like Artillery they buffet me
Softly.

Without warning I feel a barrage of needle sharp mental objects and
I
raise my Shield and take aim with my Artillery.

Logic and Reality have been blown apart and lost in the Chaos.

Suddenly,
The clips are emptied and quiet prevails.
Stunned
I have nothing to say.