Skip to main content

The Game of Post-Apocalypse

 Sharing today with The Sunday Muse #220. Come & share a tale!


Pick up the haunted book, open the cover. 
You've been watching the glass for years
Surely the specters deserve a voice. 

Where have all the people gone?
They are still walking the spectrum
Watching for the Between store.

Where else would you buy the sheets?
Not that they wear sheets--just light
Spun with dust drifting silk.

Practical, are sheets. Familiar chores.
That's not why you walk reflections
Listening for subtle coughs.

So many layers to the dim, flat world
Now that sunlight shatters among
Walkers and discount shadows.

Learning to see the art of desecration
Won't confine it to the deadly book.


I worry too many think it's possible to win the apocalypse. 

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. Sherry Blue SkyJuly 23, 2022 at 10:13 AM

    I worry about the same thing, Chrissa. Major denial going on everywhere. Your poem is haunting - so many great lines - I especially love "So many layers to the dim, flat world
    Now that sunlight shatters among Walkers and discount shadows."

    ReplyDelete
  2. Carrie Van HornJuly 23, 2022 at 10:32 AM

    What you have done here is brilliant Chrissa! I love the questions and the learning to see the art of desecration. Like Sherry said it is haunting and that is what gives it such a presence and power. I had a feeling this was the image you would choose. I was thinking of you when I chose it my friend!

    ReplyDelete
  3. robkistnerJuly 23, 2022 at 12:28 PM

    This has impact Chrissa, and hits at the center of today’s issues — excellent write. ✌🏼🫶🏼

    ReplyDelete
  4. Gillena CoxJuly 24, 2022 at 8:35 AM

    "Practical, are sheets. Familiar chores.
    That's not why you walk reflections
    Listening for subtle coughs."

    My favourite verse Chrissa.
    Have a lovely Sunday. Thanks for dropping by my blog.

    Much💚love

    ReplyDelete
  5. Keith's RamblingsJuly 24, 2022 at 9:07 AM

    Each verse is a complete poem of its own. A poignant piece indeed Chrissa..

    ReplyDelete
  6. Marion HortonJuly 24, 2022 at 9:50 AM

    We carry on as normal don't we? Great poem. Particularly love the lines in your penultimate stanza.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Susie ClevengerJuly 24, 2022 at 1:57 PM

    You have a great voice for the image! Love this "Practical, are sheets. Familiar chores.
    That's not why you walk reflections Listening for subtle coughs."

    ReplyDelete
  8. FireblossomJuly 24, 2022 at 2:15 PM

    I insist that they do wear sheets. It's a requirement. :-P

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Once Upon a Future Past

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #204 . It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening ran behind me dragons, demons, and the sleeping world; afraid to turn, to wake me. Power needs its horror stories, its ghosts. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening followed close; a fantasy of goodness, where the gold is always covering bones. Power needs its fairy tales, its witches. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening treads my hem, like an army from the dragon's teeth and all the lies therein. -- Chrissa
14 comments
Read more

On Bad Days

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #186 . Sorry. Probably best to skip this one. On bad days I argue with the void: it is empty; I call it full of nothing made pathological; therefore it obsesses to possess mass, to be something arguing with the universe but shouting in the mirror black as starlit backdrop, as stars that fall deeper and deeper into time until they  drag everything into the void and are empty, wrung out of needing to have an argument and then we look at each other, deep in the black fallen forever of our gaze.  I wasn't going to post this week. But that probably doesn't matter...because here is a post. This has been a weird week and, in the midst of much more important things, my NaNo project just [temporarily] self-destructed. There will be a return to that project and I'm already sharpening the knives for it. Just need to let a little off-topic anger abate so that everyone doesn't get flamethrowers and a crazy 80's soundtrack. AAAAAAAAEEEEEIIIIIIIIIII!...
12 comments
Read more

Fearsome by Survival

  Sharing today with T he Sunday Muse #189 , where Shay is hosting. Come and read and share a piece! On a web-white, wool-quiet morning I found the girl our stories gave us The one who survived She wore the meadow, carded and sewn Long since burned for field Still, she knew me Her stories named me fierce, feral She might have feared  The one who devours Neither of us spoke, patient at morning Breath, warmth, silence Innocent of power We know the stories kill us both We know that we become Fearsome by survival Hello and welcome. It's 67 degrees outside this morning and a warm December weekend might seem like the kind of thing that would prevent me from following through on a plan to hibernate with a good book for the rest of the weekend...but it's the doomscrolling that's run down the charge on my phone that's preventing me from doing that. Also, I may have developed an intolerance to long stretches of quiet during the past year and a half.  Anyway. Looking forward to r...
16 comments
Read more