New Poem: Blessed are those who can murder

For a reason I cant remember, haikus were brought up in my class. Admittedly, I was a little bored. So, I started writing bad haikus, haikus that made fun of other haikus. i wondered if “fuck” could find a home in a haiku…and then the morbid thoughts came howling in that winter cold you try your best to shut the door on as quickly as possible. One went as such:

 

This is a haiku

shooting itself in the jaw

singing til’ its end

 

I really couldnt get the form out of my head, so I tried to embrace it, and welcome with it all that brought along. For some reason I was thinking about Milosz trying to translate haikus for his “Book of Luminous things” and found myself an old man retruning to a war devastated country. The first line surprised me so much I just decided to stick with what I was imagining. Alas, I give you this. If you’re wondering part way through what your reading– it’s Satire…dark satire…a critical eye seeing a destructive world. Cheers!

 

Blessed are those who can murder

by Paul Tomes

 

plums hang on the vines

of razorwire      black smoke

but no brick chimney

 

only porcelain

and only glass        everything

held has been shattered

 

the eye of a doll

is splattered with ash     a boot

chars its  stitched up face

 

look  there is nothing

there’s nothing for us    my dear

see  there is nothing

 

history returns

with her verdict     none rise

when she enters the room

 

the dirt will not drain

of the wrath from her flood       muddied

the leaves in the garden

 

all corpses face down

in the river  and  the      dark crow

shall inherit the earth

 

 

I welcome your thoughts!

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