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The_jackalope

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Member since: Sun Jun 4, 2017, 05:46 PM
Number of posts: 1,660

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Fortunato in the Catacomb

What strange pale dream-mist is this,
That drifts between in-here and out-there?

Where have fled the feelings of my youth?
Desire, passion, lust, engagement, even shame?
Why is the village square so empty?
Where are the friends of my youth?
Where its blood-red certainty?

Where is any sense of future?
Of past?
Of present?
Where is the desire to live?
Or even desire to die?

Victor Frankl taught us that a man can live without hope,
So long as he can still create the dream of meaning.
To dream - aye, there's the rub.

It is not loss of hope that tops that slippery slide,
Rather it's the epiphanic horror of knowing
That meaning must be created anew in every moment.

Woe betide the man who but relaxes for an instant,
And in that precious twinkling slips his grasp
Of all desire to invent more spurious meanings.

"Enough, enough," his spirit murmurs.
The dream-mist drifts,
I cannot see you through its veil.
The candle gutters.
Posted by The_jackalope | Tue Jul 10, 2018, 07:28 PM (1 replies)

British anti-terrorism police called in as unknown substance leaves two people critical

Source: Reuters

AMESBURY, England (Reuters) - British counter-terrorism officers joined a police investigation on Wednesday after two people were found in critical condition from suspected exposure to an unknown substance near the English city where a former Russian spy was poisoned.

Britainís Sun newspaper reported that the man and woman had been poisoned and were showing similar symptoms to those displayed by ex-double agent Sergei Skripal and his daughter Yulia who were victims of a nerve agent attack in March.

The Sun said samples of the toxin involved had been sent to the nearby military research centre of Porton Down for testing.

Read more: https://uk.reuters.com/article/uk-britain-police-critical/two-people-in-critical-condition-in-uk-after-incident-in-amesbury-police-idUKKBN1JU058
Posted by The_jackalope | Wed Jul 4, 2018, 11:02 AM (2 replies)

In Memory Of Those Who Have Gone Silent

Carefully I thread my bison-bone needle
With the gut of a sea otter.
Tenderly, stitch by stitch,
I sew up my mouth.
Bind my feet with drift net,
My hands with razor wire.
Without a final glance,
Pour acid mine tailings into my eyes.
All witnessing and action stilled,
I slip soundlessly into the abyss;
Adding one more stillness to the lifeless sea.
Posted by The_jackalope | Tue Jul 3, 2018, 12:12 PM (4 replies)
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