Numb

I am untouched by death, it seems
My brow so cool, and arid eye
No flicker at the suicide scenes
Of friend that waited, soon to die

And hastened with impatient crime
To strike a blow and choose his time.

Not I, the sobbing, shrieking wreck
That tears their clothes and hair to match
The inner maelstrom kept in check
You’d scarcely hear my voice – the catch

Unnoticed by my colleague’s grin
Unless I choose to let them in.

At reading of another act
Of violence in public space
It is not terror strikes my heart
I cannot lie to save my face

Though all around are tearing fast
I’m calm and cool – it brushes past.

On hearing tales of chemicals
That kill en-masse, so far away
Of sniping shooters winging girls
Who want to go to school today

The sum of Arab Springs and Falls
Cannot unbuild emotive walls.

I’ve known it worse, or so we say
Explosions and effects galore
I saw a film, but yesterday
I can’t be feeling any more

Of Realism, High-def blow
Paid for my ticket, saw the show.

Though broadcast pictures fill the News
I’ve seen too many other views
In my short life to be amused
By one more shot of life, abused

While Western minds are overfed
On what we’re sold, and so, misled.

What heartstrings I have left to tug
Beside ideas I fondly kept
Lie buried underneath the rug
Old fashioned views, soft-celled, inept

Far too naive to hold so late
Beyond their expiration date.

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3 thoughts on “Numb

  1. hello Ms. Shirley. I do hope you’ll forgive this very rude informal interruption from such a silly fellow as myself. I am a wayward exile from that now defunct spazzian kingdom. However, Before it had succumbed to a Pompeiian fate, I had become aware of your own excellent dialectical and poetical creativity. Though, to keep you from my ludicrously ludicrous thoughts of ridiculousness that the watermelonvampire and C.C.Says bore with such remarkable saintly restraint , I chose to abstain from asking for your own delightful cyber-acquaintance.

    Ridiculous as I may truthfully be, since I’ve discovered this day that your talented cyber-verse has not been entirely relegated to classical style print; and no-doubt, wonderful pathos-driven stage-performances, I’ve decided to declare in the manner much like a pretender portraying himself as the younger missing prince of the white queen’s tragedy; who will, – along with insisting his Tudor-slandered uncle did not do away with him or his brother The Prince of Wales – that’s the vengeance seeking Duke of Buckingham, of course, who will, as I said, proclaim Ms. Shirley, that what you speak of so dialectically well here is indeed the very concept of Zooropa. The West has entered the Zooropian age. The question is, can it pass through it without irreparable harm?

    Zooropa as those Irish lads once proclaimed my dear Ms. Shirley, Zooropa:

    Wonderful piece of pathos-driven verse. I do hope you realize, despite all my silliness, that I think this piece of yours is quite superb. :).

  2. Hello again, Ms. Shirley, there is no rule, spoken or unspoken that I’m currently aware of that demands a poetic author or authoress remain both aloof and solemnly stoic towards any and all comments left on a particular piece of theirs—even comments left by the most ridiculous of fellows. Though at first glance there seems very little interaction between bloggers here on this site and their readers. Which I find oddly strange, Now, of course, no one would blame you for disregarding my own ridiculousness above, though I do thank you for accepting the ridiculous post. Good Lord! What in the world was I thinking when I made eccentric references to The House of York and the missing Princes??? lol —not sure where that came from., But anyways, I thought I do myself a proper WordPress profile and so I’m currently fiddling about with the comments system and such right now. It would seem there’s a traveling flotilla of old spazzer exiles following you on here and perhaps I might soon renew some old cyber acquaintances of mine—or perhaps create tribulations from the exiled community.

    Btw… not that it means too much, for I’m certainly not a significant fellow in any way imaginable, but I do very much hope you don’t mind a foolish cyber fool like following your excellent work. And I promise no more laborious long-winded comments. 😉

    • Hello, Mr. Johannes,

      My sincere apologies for not responding to your comment sooner. I regret the necessity of holding down a day job can impose a certain number of constraints upon my time. I hope you are not offended if I continue to focus the majority of my spare time efforts upon my writing. I would seek the indulgence and understanding of all my readers; know that I am delighted if you enjoy my words. However, I am not always free to respond or indeed acknowledge comments as quickly as the bounds of internet courtesy in this age of instant gratification might dictate.

      With best wishes,

      Katherine

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