During week 12 of ‘Writing Apocalypse, we were asked to read Mary Karr’s Disappointments of the Apocalypse, then come up with our own ‘Disappointments of the Apocalypse’ poem.
Swaying leaves and lapping shores
herald shifting dreams
of memories imagined.
Trigger Warning: Disturbing content
I wrote this as a story, but I’ve been told it’s poetry, so I’ll post it in both categories and let you decide.
We’re alive, but not living, not really. We’re stuck in some endless play and can’t find our way from the stage.
Seven Watchmen sitting in a tower,
Watching what had come upon mankind,
Showed the Man the Glory and the Power,
And bade him shape the Kingdom to his mind.
Silence Hum of traffic returning workers from endless hours of drudgery. Roar of mowers remaking lawns in tame parodies of the wilderness.
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas ‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would… Read More ›
Opening Sentence: Slit scars across your wrists must mean you tried. Synopsis: N/A Genre: Poetry Rating: @@@@ Pages: 132 BCID: xxx-6265782 ISBN: 978-1-934209-22-6 Year: 2008 Format: Paperback Comments: Cats Creep the Fire to Art is a collection of the works… Read More ›