Friday, April 24, 2009

soon or late

there is a sound
that panic makes
when pressed down hard

a high-pitched keen
not heard, per se
but felt in teeth
and marrow

but my grip will soon
or late give way
the force set free
to run its wild
and manic course
until its fury’s spent

then I will rock
and blink
amid debris
panting in its wake


RachelW said...

Ooh, this brings back a memory-wave of anxiety in me... anxiety does this to me, that high-pitched sound that gets harder and harder to ignore.

CathM said...

Hmmmmmmm... this one's interesting - I'll be re-reading and pondering it some more:)

christopher said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
christopher said...

Sorry for the false post. Here's the real one.

Sounds Of Incest Kin

The high pitched keening
of panic is incest kin
to the hissing sound
of anger loosed in
the dark space, confined until
at pressure it steams
out through a very
small hole. We call this sharp sound,
this snake, whining.

Woman in a Window said...

Such anxiety tightly knit. Well done, although I'm all wound for sound now. (Here by way of Racel's.)

S.L. Corsua said...

Loved this compact poem -- the flow, and how it ends with a bang. ;) Cheers.

Jen Jewel Brown said...

Searingly good. Thanks for refreshing my early morning.Capcha says feromert. I would like to write a language of capcha words. It is 3.33. Good night sir.