Halloween Poetry (6): This Concert is Dead

The rapture had finally hit,
as the music in this stadium
rocks the beat and pulsates
like a living creature ready to burst through.
My friends and I are celebrated in dress,
and movements in response to the bloody music
are erratic, violent, and schizophrenic in nature.
We let loose. We just let everything
cease and our minds transported away.
Drugs were there. And when they were there
we were there too and then we were gone,
gone to the cosmos on a one-way trip through space.
Bursting through the gatekeeper’s cloud.
The shine asks us to fade away,
and waves of music color experience
felt in movement around us.
You can see it in the eyes,
the music as a rapturous possessor,
an iris melting across the color spectrum,
blue, violet, green, red, orange.
costume changes in a transcendental closet.
The soul was plagued from the start.
There’s a frenzy in the crowd now.
People are lunging at each other,
gnashing of teeth and a frenzy,
bleeding bite marks and violent epidemic.
My friends start screaming,
I hear crying abruptly muted
and flocks of people scurry about
but can’t actually move past the impenetrable
walls of people around them.
A chord change, the speakers salivate
music that continues its faithful lurch
in hues of green and black waves.
The music keeps playing
even though its master has abandoned it.
A faithful soundtrack for the dead and dying.
I continue dancing in this cloud of dreams
as the chaos erupts around me, apocalypse now.
I’ve been bit, I let go.
All aspirations forgotten, all problems
ceasing to exist.
I shuffle my feet,
to the strobe lights.
Keep shuffling,
and then I was no more.


Halloween, apocalypse, concert, dark, dead, death, dying, is, jennings living, music, parker, poem, poetry, violence, young, zombies,

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