Q u i c k s a n d

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Not my normal writing. I wrote this in response to the theme of "Chaos" for my poetry group

Submitted: April 13, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 13, 2008







I cannot understand.


 Reporters, smiling terribly.


  I hear the buzzing of carrion flies in their voices.


I choke on the brown cloud blanket,


and the phone rings too much.








trapped in chaos,

Like the Quicksand of C i v i l i z a t i o n,


sucked into oblivion;


one last sane person


in this insane world.


 Up to my neck in oblivion,


chaos threatens to pull me under


Q u i c k s a n d pushes into my mouth,


can no longer speak the truth.


Q u i c k s a n d plugs up my two nostrils


can’t smell the sweet air


 Of serenity.


Q u i c k s a n d coats my eyes.


  My situation,


I can see it’s bad.


Over my head,


my arms up


to grab something.


CHAOS claims my arms.


Hands slide

 below the surface


I can no longer fight this.





© Copyright 2017 Isabel WordenKlym. All rights reserved.

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