Lives + Afterlife
(RIP Derek Mahon)
I
a voice in the pocket of the outside crusader
screams in diluted darkness
crawling on blood flooding knees
from prison cell dead end canyons
crossing deep graved cave ravines
curtained by smoke and steamed mirror terrors
light burnt out under collapsing night
bound in the noose of lingering rope
tightly tied to faded flashlight demise
stretched synthetic wet-suit fabric
torn and unraveling into threaded anchors
leak cold salt water into a punctured spirit
torch batteries burnt fatally flat
the leather’d limb matchstick ember
whispers slow fatigued flat line breaths
bed of rock extended beyond
obstacle field crawling lengths
where metres faded into millennia
II
softer than a dandelion cocoon
a breeze sweeps from a hairline crack
roaring life into the cavity tomb
lifted from the empty lung
crushing stranglehold and inflated
floating onto clouds of feathered flight
crippled by fear of fatherless children
a second breath bounced from ropes
into seasoned soldier strength
jaws of death slumbers hopeless
dozed off by the anesthetic bite
fighting to escape the narrowing gates
unscathed and mightier he flees
from the enclosing fallen walls
with strengthening stories of power for all.
