Poetry : The Primal Scream

The Primal Scream

...sometimes it is good
to let the baby sparrow die
so a new day can hatch

laughter died when it was too afraid to live
but even when fear took it
to the edge of a cliff
it clung to a broken cloud
by threads of itself

when the quagmire of troubled youth
combined with Einstein logic
it formed a feeble waif,
jumbled, kaleidoscoped, hardened and trapped
between carousels, pony tails,
and the grown-up on the other side

when the median line grew crooked and thick
curtains turned to walls
and walls into graves
but the "I" still breathed and clawed with passion

when I held the verdict of "yes" versus "no"
in my etherized hands
I knew
that born-again laughter was only as far away
as the "I" will push it.

Poetry : The Primal Scream 2011-09-18T19:29:00-07:00 Rating: 4.5 Diposkan Oleh: Rizal