Tags
Anarchism, Apocalypse, atheism, Christmas, death, Ebenezer Scrooge, ghost, Poem, Poetry, Religion
It happens in a blink
of the eye and the train of lights,
red, white, green,
gone into the dark
of a new year.
It happens in a closing
of the eyes, into the overstuffed embrace
of a cardboard coffin,
the tree collapsing,
overburdened by gaiety,
broken and dismembered.
It happens in the blinding
of eyes, and the crinkling unrolling
of clear tape, binding the artificial
to past joys and sorrows, in hopes
for better tomorrows.
It happens in the settled
dust of darkness and forgotten crawlspaces,
encrypted with two malingering ghosts,
imparting metallic pallor
to the breath of believers,
while the third fails to show
for the funeral.
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dang…some pretty vivid images in this…th cardboard coffin…the taping….the funeral…binding the artificial….wont claim to understand it completely but i can see it…
peek over to the tags.. 🙂
sorry i am a wee bit slow you know…ha…i def got the passage of time and how quickly things can change as well…SCROOOOGE…haha…
not just Scrooge, you know, the last Christmas…
Great images here. I especially like the ending. Happy New Year!
Maybe I’m off track, but it brings to mind how I feel when boxing up the tree and putting it in storage for another year. Always leaves me blue.
That is what provided the surface of the poem..not at home though..little café..thanks for stopping by.
A different take on the prompt, I specially like the second stanza ~
Wishing you Happy New Year ~
same to you Grace..
Very interesting poem. Thanks. k.
“the overstuffed embrace of a cardboard coffin” – I think that was my favorite line, though there are other strong images here as well. Interesting piece. I’ve read it a few times, and I find something different each time.
tight images…and i needed the tags to orient myself in the poem…very interesting take on change for sure..smiles
I get it, you use tags as clues.
Like the tags on corpses in the morgue.
Like names for ghosts: one nebulous, one still fluffy and one suppose to come back again.f
But not enough clues for me on this one.
Though it read nicely
It is the packing of an artificial tree for the last Christmas to be celebrated which is why the ghost of Christmas future didn’t make it to the funeral..
“into the overstuffed embrace
of a cardboard coffin,”
just brilliant.
..completely intriguing… hmmn..
I admired the boldness in presenting a foreboding concept with a balance of authority (without being too authoritative) and calm. Somehow death, and the bigger end needed this kind of reverence and sense of the poetic.
My essays tend to be more authoritative..Death holds no fear for me, though the journey there may be difficult..hopefully the end will gracefully ease into a better beginning..with hope, yes some..realistically…it will likely be worse than childbirth..