. . . The Ragged Curtain Falls

Black Death expressed in paint.
Black Death expressed in paint.

I did not write captions for these photos. It's up to you to decide if they express the artist's view of death or life after death.

Source

It's here. And gone.

Cheyenne dusk slices me in bloodless night. Skull soldiers of sunrise gives life to rotted eyes.
And reptiles innocent and maimed crawl righteously free in a tattered shadow of what's left of me
Starving and carving a lonely mark seen only by foolish light and senseless dark.
Moments as quicksilver--fading sparks travel fast and far inspecting what was once my face
but is now a Sheol's mar.

Dark, desolate, soothing the vulgar odor of a corpse-like quiet
Gives needed-pink passion to the ravenous, screaming, needy-night.
No words. No life. No night. Without sought-after solution or eager-absolution
Cautiously reaching the roots, cold dirt walls, fading halls seeking the sum of life in all.

Unknown location.

Dark, desolate, soothing the vulgar odor of a corpse-like quiet
Gives needed-pink passion to the ravenous, screaming, needy-night.
No words. No life. No night. Without sought-after solution or eager-absolution
Cautiously reaching the roots, cold dirt walls, fading halls seeking the sum of life in all.

Speaking is useless as as wings to a dark disease that consumes humanity, and man's sweet ease.
Teasing an unassuming sky while dancing with death in my other closed eye,
I hide a smirk, a glimmer of her, and walk boldy to the graveside's rusty good-bye.
My bones for feet are slipping in sod of filth--embracing the sentence, spitting on the pentence.

New visions. New birth.

So dragons of green, ravens serene knowing a flesh soon will gag the starving pale of Styx.
She stands mute glaring the scabbed satin wound while foggy devils hold hands with hades.
Cursed be my tongue--no vowels, sighs, and obscure cries of love touched and lost.
Just my stench, my sweaty stench.

Horsemen with hearts so pure groping a crack in my soul in which to peer.
Knights, pawns, bishops just cowards in mask
Grimacing the thorns of an eternal task.
Stand so sure. Shaking their valor down. Ahhh, real bones. Real hearts. Real men.

At Last, It's Final.

Innocent hares run past harmless snares . . .
And serpents coil a nurtured stance.
At "a" sunrise a glimpse away--I stare. . .
And simply stare.

Reminder . . .

as I said in the summary, you may read this piece from top to bottom then from bottom to top and arrive at a completely-different meaning each time. That is the main reason this took me so long to complete.

Thank you,

Kenneth

Van Dyck's Saint Rosalie interceding for the Plague-stricken of Palermo, 1624 (detail) is on display at Van Dyck in Sicily: Painting and the Plague at Dulwich Picture Gallery. Photograph: The Metropolitan Museum of Art/Art Resource/Scala, Florence.

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Comments 12 comments

Lee Cloak 18 months ago

Stunningly dramatic, a really interesting read, every line thought provoking, thanks, voted up, Lee


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 18 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama Author

Lee,

Your comment describes the central nature of abstract/prose. Some lines are separate worlds onto themselves while other passages continue (a) flow until a new thought is written.

Thanks so much for stopping by.


bravewarrior profile image

bravewarrior 18 months ago from Central Florida

Very dark but so well-written, Kenneth. Wickedly good!


Jodah profile image

Jodah 18 months ago from Queensland Australia

Very dark and abstract writing here Kenneth. I needed to read and reread between the lines. Quite dramatic and intense.


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 18 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama Author

Hi, bravewarrior,

Thank you so much. I am out of ways to say thank you and I hope that I can be worthy of your kindness.

Have a peaceful day or night and visit me anytime you like.


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 18 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama Author

Jodah,

I appreciate you taking time to read and comment on (this) piece that literally took it out of me.

Jodah, you are one great friend, wonderful follower and very talented writer.

Have an easy day or night.


annart profile image

annart 18 months ago from SW England

Very clever and your illustrations are stunning. It's complicated and, as Jodah says, needs re-reading a few times. The drama is vibrant! I do so like this side of your writing.

Ann


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 18 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama Author

Dear annart,

I wish I had the perfect way to say thank you for this wonderful comment. But I do not. I apologize.

Thanks so much for making my evening--June 14, 2015.

You have a happy, safe week and stay in touch.


annart profile image

annart 18 months ago from SW England

You're welcome; no need to apologise!

Ann


kenneth avery profile image

kenneth avery 18 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama Author

Dear ann,

You are way too kind to me. Thank you.

May God open Heaven and pour out a Huge Amount of Happiness, Peace, and Joy into your life.

I will be your friend for life.

Kenneth


annart profile image

annart 18 months ago from SW England

Thank you for your kind wishes. Friendship is a great thing. All my best to you.

Ann


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kenneth avery 18 months ago from Hamilton, Alabama Author

Walking stealthily through the dark night . . .

Dearest Ann,

You are welcome. And you are right. Friendship such as ours is very special and great too. You cannot fathom how many times you have made me feel good or cheered me up since we became friends.

I just felt it needful to say this to you.

Sincerely, Kenneth

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