15 For Fear and Firsts’ Sake

i.

 

Howdy.

I used to be saved now I’m hell-bound.

Went on a mission to the 

motherland

but the mission failed. Half

of us didn’t know 

the difference between Mother

and her offspring. Need-

less to say 

Mother 

whipped

us.

 

ii.

 

Apologies.

I didn’t mean to sing empty 

tunes like Leo singing

Swing Low Sweet Chariot.

I only meant

to bring you warm tidings

thinking naively 

that I could.

I only meant to make my 

Father proud 

who loves me 

conditionally unconditionally.

A transreligion alien

learning gender.

An assmilator’s assimilation

failed.

 

iii.

 

Look at me.

I finagle my gears down Boulevard

grinding, shrieking,

Grinning

toward a beatific hope.

My hope lies in the eyes

of my

Father not my Mother.

In the desolate marshlands

my Fathers reaped.

My golden Mother 

With silver eyes

And tired hands

is where I 

find my sleep

collect my peace

and keep my soul.

 

iiii.

 

She is the dying leaves.

Where shall I rake my soul?

Rake it back and forth?

Into a bag 

for Christ’s sake?

Throw it with a dumbbell weight

down to the depths

of a dumpster lake?

Throw them in the basement

where the unicorns do thrive?

Unicorns 

who prance merrily through 

unblemished deep blue 

Sticking their horns

toward the moon

where theUnicorn Fathers lived.

 

v.

 

I was once told

by my Father

Son

It’s not the finish line

But the mission

That really counts.

Son

Believe me

I love you 

 

vi.

 

Son

For example

I sobbed 

when they lopped 

off your foreskin.

 

vii.

 

Lies.

Easy to let ‘em slither

Out

the mouth.

Besonders wenn du

deine

peinliche Gefühle 

baust.

Back

in the land of diamonds,

A translator

translated

From Mother to Mother.

From Quran to Bible.

From Prophet to Father to

Son.

Compulsiveness 

slipping

through cracks

falling hard onto

the muddy common room.

The conclusion –

that we

were far worse

than anything.

 

viii.

 

The curtains weren’t there.

The Father wasn’t there.

The costly sacrifice

and the only stable chair

enfolded in

the smell of burnt hair.

I quit.

I quit, I told my Father

in nightmares.

I quit it all.

I quit the dance

I quit the ball.

 

I drown myself

in the water.

 

viiii.

 

Hello, Fox.

Hello,

I see you there.

You have been

there 

before.

Have you seen me here?

Ah, have you come to see me?

 

Where are your Mother and Father?

 

I will see you tomorrow,

and the next day,

and the day after that,

Even if you do not

show yourself to me.

Oh Fox,

You are so clever.

Have you ever been

to the banks of the Nile River?

 

xx.

 

Excuse me.

I was trapped in

amber.

Even if I die tonight,

I will dutifully

remember

The day my God left me

to soak –  bloat –  prune in his river

never knowing 

His water

 

fanned this glowing ember.

 

xi.

 

I remember the nineties

Like memories

Of yesteryear

Staticky VCRs of Robin Hood.

That is why

Father could. To take from

the rich

and give to the good.

 

xii. 

 

Cottonmouth,

Trying to sleep

With thoughts to shout

And promises to keep

to my only friend

and myself only

The thought of sharing,

soft and comely.

 

xiii. 

 

We walked to the well.

My thoughts were shared.

I shut King James 

(although my hands shook

as the pages closed).

But now I could hold her hand,

Mine the steady one.

Dark little Rakai,

head shaved, bright eyes.

More strength than I,

Comparatively.

Her two liter yellow 

water jug scraped and stained

By the ground gravelled and

Dried orange-brown from 

The beating sun and the way

She had to drag the jug once

Her skinny toddler arms had 

filled it with dirty brown 

water from the village well.

 

The mission had already failed.

It’s pseudo saviors had their egos killed.

 

xiiii.

 

Humans seemed more

like lovers than cattle.

The days began to vibrate,

shake, and rattle,

eggs and toast becoming

less than enough. 

Somewhere between I had had

more than enough.

 

With the Mother, with the Father,

with the Bride, with the light.

Somewhere between water wells

and dank prison nights.

 

xv.

 

Now, instead of there, 

All I am is here.

Now, instead of years,

All I am is here.

 

Tell that to the Gods.

Harbingers of fear.

 

I whisper mission

with you and your presence near.

 


Submitted: September 23, 2020

© Copyright 2023 Keegan Roembke. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

Other Content by Keegan Roembke