This poem was written as a (kinda) response to Rob Kistner’s poem, “Up From Hell” over on his blog Image and Verse and is for Read Write Poem Prompt #55 – Free For All. It is a sort of stream-of-consciousness piece, so bear with me if it meanders a bit. Enjoy.
-Nicole
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she walks in the house of the dead
house of the rising dead
dead house rising
dead house falling
dead men walking
walking in the shadow sulfur of the
hells they emerge from
fresh, livid, yet stagnant
stagnation nation
the dead must rise from their graves
shake off the the dust of ignorance
else they sleepwalk in their shrouds
but shrouded and clouded
her dreams were misrouted to dreamless sleep
jump from abortion stories of abandoned hope buildings
fall to the ground
land like feathers without a sound
her feathers shatter
misstep
boom
fall to the ground
without a sound
land on the ground
her face pounds into pavement
the image of what she was
forever stamped in pavement
concrete carries the testament of her
dying and trying not to be crying
but crying is what she needs
crying is what feeds
the healing that demons are stealing
from her, leaving her reeling
reeled in by lies
disguised as good advisement
don’t dream
don’t breathe
sleepwalk in march-time goosestep
in the house of the living dead
but only the dead refuse to dream
she died at sixteen
sixteen years inside coffins of her own choosing
vampire flesh rotting yet plotting sweet escape
feed off the dreams of others
drink blood, map graveyards, plot courses
of course, there is a way out
bust out
break down doors
expose sores to the healing light
if her dreams be not yet out of sight
then she must while still in endless night
torch to her own wicked delight
that house of the living dead
step out
shut door
pour gasoline
light matches
steal back her dreams
burn, motherfucker
burn
Written 12/3/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.
Oh, and while you’re at it, if you haven’t seen this announcement, you may want to.
“if her dreams be not yet out of sight
then she must while still in endless night
torch to her own wicked delight
that house of the living dead”
A stinging, captivating piece you’ve written here. I especially love the grace, tempo, and power of the stanza I’ve quote above — “well done” Nicole! (pardon the unintentional pun)
Hard hitting..
keep it burning, keep it alive
i could see this performed–it is one meant to be heard
This definitely lends itself to a reading. I’d love to hear it aloud!
Thank you for stopping by my blog. I’ve been “around” and seen you around also, just somehow don’t often cross paths. I really like your work. I’ll be back to visit.