The migration snakes and meanders
in search of generous mouths.
Our lips
are thin, white,
and morgue stitched shut.
The walls we've built are slick
with brains and blood.
We are unaware of angels and too fearful
for Jesus.
For Poetry Pantry at Poets United
Sunday, November 15, 2015
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
11 comments:
That last stanza is a WHEW stanza. So very strong!
Oh, WHEW indeed!!! You do blow me away!! Have a great new week!
I adore the last two lines, I love the middle ones, I love "morgue stitched shut." Oh, I love the whole bloody thing.
Strong writing!
Wowzers!
Ok one more WOW! 'Morgue stitched shut' is such a visceral image and hits deep.
too fearful of Jesus - indeed - that would require a conscience of which so much of mankind seems to lack -lips morgue stitched shut - is such a powerful image...i say reach for the stitch cutters and shout from the rooftops..although maybe we do that anyway in our own small way
The description of the lips is classic.
Ouch. Yes, you speak true.
There is a beautiful and ugly side to all of us that we must show or keep under control. We must be brave enough to choose the right one.
A reminder that there is a supreme being. Thanks for this.
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