A Chorus Of Complaints

The thick clouds followed the contour of golden hills, moving with a flock of sea ghosts,
traveling through the coast,
it was a strange return,
for the young men who would burn,
after the explosion left the sea,
tears hid beneath God’s polished cheek-bones,
as war ghosts were floating beyond
the green tangles of wilderness,
life done, survivors none,
as clouds passed over the sun,
life wanted more,
but the angels knew that wasn’t possible,
as their angelic feet threaded lightly over the mosaic floor, there were no choices,
as the soldiers heard the voices,
passed loved ones came to show the way,
with candles lit for such a dreary day,
death had no restraints,
but life echoed a chorus of complaints,
dark shadows were contemplating,
and God was weary with waiting,
his voice thundered with indignation,
as he witnessed the doom,
and the spirits took their time,
inspecting their burial tomb.

Just fabulous,
as she was trying to remember everything, so that she could tell it in detail,
it was a fairy tale,
there were bowls of chrysanthemums, the colors were filled with grace,
birds humming,
and there was no sorrow, not a trace, happy she would be,
they drank weak, fragrant tea,
she ate rice from a spiritual yellow bowl, and she could see,
that she was fed by kneeling angels, and she felt so free.

A future so dim,
a life of filthy sin,
she was selling her body,
which was intense and thin,
she once thought fancifully
that her body was a forbidden city, she felt her family’s pity
burning in her heart,
and it just all fell apart,
as strangers had now fallen
to the temptation of looting
her forbidden city,
she no longer felt the pity,
and her future was bought,
by men with dirty thoughts,
that combined with the brooding sense of danger,
the false heat, the disgusting lust, no protection, no trust,
all hope lost, as it filled her head, and her once forbidden city, now dead.

To prevent further destruction,
God tried,
as the living and dead would collide, ghosts would hide,
as spirits took to the sky,
and God’s children would cry,
after many years of heat,
the odd winter was a treat,
God gratefully breathed in cold air, even though he knew the end was near, that was his biggest fear,
as he splashed his face with rain, he sensed the pain,
all life would fizzle,
as he lowered his head,
and against the drizzle,
he strode behind the dead.

The angel frowned,
made no sound,
his stare lingered
toward the ground,
the child cried,
by his father’s bedside,
the angel was thinking about his father, and the horrible way he died,
the hallucinatory vision
of it was fresh in his mind,
only it wasn’t just a hallucination, the pains wouldn’t heal,
and he would still feel,
even after his death,
the angel closed his eyes,
held his breath,
and released the cries.

The night was as dark as caves, the hordes of spirits and ghosts that dotted the graves,
and the grave yards vanished, they were swallowed up
in swirling columns of darkness, and they just ceased to exist, the night remained eerily silent, for all that had to be taking place, nothing to face,
darkness stood tall.
And the devil stared in awe.

Worries filled her head,
so she had stretched out on her bed, a temporary break
she would take,
but the comfortable old mattress, claimed her,
and stole her away from fear, however, chaos stayed near,
as she fell into
the peaceful realm of sleep,
wonderfully deep.

The traffic light, red,
the alley rats, fed,
the boy swallowed hard,
and shook his head,
the bullets shattered his skin,
he bled,
but he looked as if he understood, all too well,
and as if he should,
as far as he could tell,
it was a simple drive-by,
his mind prepared his soul to die, in a few seconds all voices were muted, but he didn’t even cry.

The fear was draping,
she thought about escaping,
but it was much too late,
hiding in a dark tower,

behind the devil’s gate,
she remained in a watchful crouch, she didn’t see the lightning,
until it ripped off the roof,
it was frightening,
as she felt the attack,
she sprawled on her back,
then everything went black,
briefly,
then a power surged,
and death converged,
as her life streamed,
she screamed, and she screamed, as th lightning bolt
cut deeply into her shoulder,
she would choke,
then quickly she evaporated into smoke.

The trees covered the moon’s light, it was a very dark night,
yet the woods were strangely silent, as if all the night creatures
were listening to God’s whispers, prayers coming from a deep place, souls standing face to face,
and every time the moon
tried to sneak a peak,
it was swallowed by
the gathering dark clouds.

Even through mortality,
the vampires stood with an odd finality, God was impressed by one facet
of their society,
they left good impressions,
there was no fighting over possessions, they shared everything equally,
although it was very clear,
they pride themselves on fear,
keeping it close, keeping it near,
and the pain they would serve,
came in such a form you could almost hear, as God mainly observed.

The fields were red and black, as the wolves were on the attack, blood seeping,
as she spotted eight more creeping out of the forest,
and starting up the mound,
human blood stained the ground, she could see them
rubbing their mouths
and licking their lips,
hungry, thirsty,
fulfilling a need,
looking to feed.

There was so much pain,
a splash of rain
hit their faces,
these humans died
in cramped, enclosed places, like coffins,
Ghosts waded into their midst, waving their arms like maniacs, then you could hear their cry, the devil looked up,
at the darkening sky,
their souls would bleed,
souls, they would just bleed, then there was a stampede of ominous looking clouds, satisfy their needs.

During a cold winter’s day,
the sun would shine
on the white pine,
the snowy trunk
shining among its dark green needles, over shadowing the leafless trees,
with its branches, snow covered at the tips, swishing in the breeze,
an odd bird tosses and flips,
making the crows give a harsh cry, then shooting up toward the sky,
waiting for the other birds to fly,
passed the clouds,
way up high.

Hope was lost in the shade,
and the momentary passion would fade, that night,
hatred spilled with all its might,
it was the tipping point,
the war had left the cities beaten and broken, and not a word was spoken,
homes burned
as smoke filled the sky,
children huddled in masses,
much too afraid to cry,
field barren, water dirty,
livestock decimated,
humanity faded,
life paused without a cause,
poverty streamed, spirits steamed,
everywhere, restlessness and despondence, which caused so much harm,
corpses filled with flies,
as God would spread his arms,
then his deep voice began to rise,
then he found himself screaming for mercy, then God would cry,
as he watched all his children die.

It’s so piercing it could make you shout, but no one could make it out,
it would arrive soon,
and even the ghosts had to admit
that the noise had been coming in all afternoon, though muted by distance,
there was enough to jangle
anyone’s nerves,
ropes would dangle,
swinging in the air,
as the souls were rounded up like cattle, the fear was near,
as tempers would rattle,
and the demons had nothing to say,
some fell to their knees,
and began to pray,
the noise had lasted almost all day.

The accused sat stiffly in his chair, he sensed the fear
floating on the air,
so thick like a cloud of smoke,
explanations raced,
a guilty verdict would choke
the entire legal system,
as the prosecutor paced
the cramped court room,
the jurors kept waiting,
the judge swaggered onto the bench, huffing and puffing,
wiping sweat from the back of his neck with a rag,
fighting to keep his anger in check, the verdict was in,
the justice system would not win, everyone contested,
as the crowds protested,
and the blind justice showed,
as tempers glowed,
and the legal system slowed.

The elements had moved up
from the burning and ruined city,
it took no prisoners,
and showed no pity,
as the rains hammered the street,
and the wind blew everyone off their feet, in the oceans the waves trembled, but did not fall,
the water was so immense,
as it grew high and tall,
creating a monstrous wall,
and it gave the illusion of safety,
as it covered it all,
thunder sounding like bombs,
as it filled the air,
and lightning like flaming torches, induced the fear,
scorches,
as it hits the ground,
trees tumbling down,
as God,
was keeping suspiciously silent.

They thought other campers were killed by a wild pack of dogs,
in front of these campers were burning logs, telling stories of the horrible creature that was never captured,
the lead camper would almost preach, as he’d teach,
suddenly his story was broken
by an unearthly screech,
a dark figure came leaping out of the trees, there was a sense of harm.
The campers reacted with alarm,
but before they let out a scream
more creatures swarmed
out of the woods in streams.

As time grew,
she knew, she just knew,
that she loved him more and more, she stared out into the garden
where they sat the night before,
time was right,
it was never promised to anyone,
over fifty years together in that house, the screen door was still settling slowly to, with a quiet protest of hinges,
the wind gently blowing so free,
then she saw him lying
beside a small fruit tree,
for a moment she would freeze,
as she sensed a hot breeze,
then she hurried toward him,
but she couldn’t run,
a bullet in his chest, from his own gun, a widening circle of consequences to spread rapidly through the quiet of that summer afternoon,
time tested,
As her eyes opened and rested
on the body of the man she loved,
her mind trailed off
in a slight impatient movement
the doctor gave her a day,
but if she was to go,
in life he wouldn’t stay,
her calm arrived,
but it was too late,
her beloved had died,
late that day...

Oil,
the sea would spoil,
the slick contracted into a floating lump, wildlife actually touched the substance, it was almost like an attack,
as the oil slick touched back,
stress and anguish and so much more, as death washed up on a black beach, the oil slick kept washing ashore,
almost at a leisure pace,
covering everything all over the place, the ebony pebbles crushed loudly
under humanity’s feet,
nature fought the demand,
fell to the command,
as the hermit crabs
were caught in the coarse black sand, no warning lights flashing,
as the birds were oozing and splashing, millions gushed before a single cap, and the wildlife caught up in it
like a Venus fly-trap,
almost as if the oil would recoil,
and react to stimuli,
a darkness rising,
as wildlife realized their future was on hold, as the present would unfold,
and a savior was left out in the cold, too much oil,
and they suffocate,
common sense, blown,
as the oil slick becomes a growing sea foam.

The cold rows of head stones
were oddly soothing,
and the night creatures
were trying to sound cheerful,
as the moonlight brought out their best features, a night with the feel of hostility bristling, made it feel all the more real,
the wind whistling,
carrying a gentle breeze,
which could bring out
the hallucinatory weirdness,
the stillness of death wouldn’t shout,
but will fall to a defeat,
and still willing to be upbeat,
so it was a night,
only bright with the moon’s light,
was in a mood to be forgiving,
accept the living,
but only in passing.

The dark witch,
locked in a cage,
looked as if she was going to turn purple with rage,
her thoughts drifted,
and her eyes shifted,
almost accusingly
from the priest to the guard,
the guard sneered,
she glared,
and the priest just stared,
she slammed her face against the cage, the guard would flinch,
but the priest didn’t move an inch.

He stood,
not too far,
there had been the large cigar, a walking cane of wood,
the oversize dark glasses,
an unhealthily yellow skin,
he had an odd popped belly,
but he was very thin,
expensively dressed,
everything pressed,
and the gravelly voice,
followed by the proposition,
he knew, worst of all,
that she would consider it, she’d fall, she needed the money,
times in her life was rough,
she was vulnerable and tough, but the bills had to be paid,
mouths to feed,
so sadly, she stayed,
because of the need,
not the proposition.

Tempers hopped,
several voices spoke at once,
then they all stopped,
the spirits looked at each other, as if caught in a haze,
a ghost spoke crisply,
as the spirits looked a little dazed, their eyes slightly crazed,
they kept nodding their heads, and darting glances,
as if they were amazed,
but afraid to take chances,
in the ghost’s voice,
there was no choice,
nothing offered, nothing said,
as the living made room for the dead, leaving nothing behind,
just intensity,
much intensity.

Her eyes red,
darkness with the lasso of light, rippling over her head,
staining the night,
she kicked him slightly,
but it was enough
to knock the air
out of his stomach,
and send him writhing to the ground, she stood over him,
and made no sound,
she was wearing a long black cloak, under which she appeared to be naked, as the blood would soak,
and he would simply choke,
as he whimpered in pain,
and she would slowly drain,
he stayed as still as a tree trunk, his blood leaving his body,
he fell hard, like he was drunk, death rose,
life sunk.

In the darkness
he witnessed something mind curbing, terrifying and disturbing,
a decomposed, partly eaten corpse, insects no doubt,
his sanity would shout,
feeling his way,
the man crawled cautiously away, death’s voice echoed,
called him into the night,
his future dim, but visions were bright, when they challenged, he had no fight, a bird sang, slowly,
and that was the last sound,
he felt the cold ground
quickly rushing to his face,
life was gone,
and left without leaving a single trace.

Pouring sanity down the drain,
reality lost in pain,
nothing stayed the same,
evil always in search of fame,
with the return of darkness came the return of uncertainty,
sanity, or what was left of it,
stood expectantly,
the night sky became violent,
as the souls wandered to the edge, feeling over-powered,
in a depressed slump,
feeling cowered,
as they took turns to jump,
the return of darkness came,
and the souls would leap over and over, and nothing was ever the same.

Death stoically carried children
as their spirits slept,
and through it all, Life wept,
God could hear the murmurings
of discontent behind him,
they came from the haunting grounds, that had grown strangely quiet,
death was running from something unseen, an invasion of dreams,
it rattles the fears,
startles the nightmares,
as life had given way to fatalism,
trapped in a haunting dream,
and there wasn’t a single scream,
death and life became an odd fit,
as humanity was certain of destruction, and talked like they deserved it.

Life was trapped in a cage,
strong and well made,
sanity shook with rage,
but trapped in the cage, it stayed, the moon watched in terror, as life would react
violently to the death of freedom, sanity, shook again,
but still intact,
it did not disintegrate,
as death would have expected, blood dripped on the Bible’s page, and life tried to extricate itself from the crushed cage.

Those misguided lunatics,
confrontation wasn’t getting them very far, from the darkness screeched
a voice that sliced across everyone’s nerves, it was preached,
as ghosts shrieked,
the dark angel would shout,
not knowing what it was all about,
and he saw a crush of bodies
swarming out the door,
running from spirits, ghosts,
and so much more,
their sanity cried,
as the dark angel tried
to hold them off,
with a flurry of wild punches,
he dropped to his knee,
they would not flee,
blood smeared across his face
misguided lunatics,
tried hiding behind God’s grace,
which one would set them free,
eyes closed, but they could still see, answering to several different gods, misguided lunatics.

The Shadow in the darkness glared, barbaric evil was declared,
ghosts, all of them formed a circle, while demon drummers
began a slow beating,
life was crying,
as the shadow was eyeing,
almost enviously,
their position was clarified,
before they terrified,
evil was deranged,
but they had death all arranged, and life stared, almost enviously.

She fell through the door,
hunkered down on the basement floor on a pile of dirt,
her body ached,
and she would hurt,
she simply couldn’t get up,
so on the floor she’d stay,
for more than a day,
she would also pray,
then weep,
as she fought the temptation
to drift off to sleep,
she knew somebody would come, her nurse, her children, grandchildren, someone,
her head would ache,
so she had to stay awake,
in her thoughts she heard cries, as she was prying open her eyes with her fingers,
she heard the door latch turning, her tired eyes were burning,
then she took one deep breath,
when the door finally opened,
it wasn’t a savior, it was death.

The old man prowled
the top of the mountain impatiently, keeping out a sharp eye,
as the clouds invaded the dark sky, he knelt at the far end,
there the cold air would bend,
taking inventory of his sanity,
as the intermittent thunder was heard, and the glassy lightning lit up the sky, he heard voices followed by a weak cry, he rose to his feet,
a lonely tear in his eye,
his face pale, gone with the heat, his body cold,
wrinkles fold,
between the row of clouds,
a figure was moving so fluidly,
A dark shadow was cast,
as he revisited his past,
first mist,
pain,
finally rain,
and then more rain.

Lonely Angels prayed,
music played,
it was indeed a funeral,
but it felt more like an impressive parade, a reassuring performance to those
in the neighborhood who craved reassurance, it was in the July heat,
when the code of the street
was abandoned,
and the dealers and dopers,
readily offer up to the police
whatever information they had,
most of it useless, and sad,