Broken windows

Climbing out through broken windows
as on twisted glass it cuts and bites
four painted walls collapsing inwards

On loose air between dust inflight
rife these quaking worlds in litter
debris it falls apart, turning sometimes

A once daylight into darkness, a hell
filling fast with gas and water, in flood
drowning life deep beneath slow instant

Rubble pits, as hope fades to now
a dwindling light, escapes clutched
to moments, instances, friends, family,

Strangers claw to find, follow sounds,
voices in a fight to crawl, climb
from underneath a rendered collective

Chaos within each their shape shifting worlds.

 

4 responses to “Broken windows

    • When remembering the past, natural disasters never pick a good day to start, but they find people, friends and strangers, in/at, the most inopportune times. Thanks, Christy. The weekend, past week has been good. All the best for the week unto you, cheers.

  1. Wonderful post dear Sean…

    I particularly liked the third stanza but the effect of the poem is great as a whole.

    I also enjoyed the imagery of broken glass as pieces of ourselves (maybe tough memories?)

    The last verse is remarkable: “Chaos within each their shape shifting worlds”.

    Best wishes, Aquileana ๐Ÿ˜€

    • Thank you, kind Aquileana…
      In both physical and expanded expressions inside of other thoughts, a many number of ways to explore the lines, Aquileana, I think I’m most certain of it upon completion. At first the tort sinew came, drawn back upon natural disaster and primed to explore changing aspects to humanity in sudden instances, change, as individuals and as a whole, a collective in thoughts that filtered about other connectedness. To in a way how they shape the instances we live across and through moments in other ways. Thank you, good Aquileana. The world changes it shape daily and in each our moments, sometimes it is hard to fathom the chaos it leaves inside of us individually and those about us.
      Have a good week, Sean ๐Ÿ˜€

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