Death Talkies: Wheel of Time [Apr/04 P66] - Page 3

Originally posted by: olive_green

wonderful words sookie.
the first entry immendiately got me thinking back to this poem, i had written years ago- entitled 'born again' about an untimely death and a yearning to live again as the soul struggled to exist in between the two worlds...i'm pasting a few lines from it here - they are not in the exact order..but just a few lines

Till on fine dusk when mercy was showered on

Soul felt emancipated from ages of cruel reality to boundaries unknown

Where word less voices echoed, revived all, passed on words that touched the core

Somewhere between all this, I lay to rest for the final time

Now when I open my eyes I feel flesh and smell the air

I stand on the very place, I had known before

Only this time I inhale the air that lets us live

Can hear the beats of life that I had longed for so long!

Hung out to dry

I watch sloshing of amber liquid amidst perfectly shaped ice cubes in a cut crystal glass. There is a burn in my throat and my tongue is parched. The liquid fire in my hand only adds on to the misery.

They talk, I try to listen.

And when he talks, I try to ignore.

But I can't. I hate him for making me incapable of ignoring his presence.

I wonder if I can whisper this to the man next to me who is talking with flailing arms and cutting words.He might ask me to stop being juvenile and let him do his job. Or maybe he would listen to me.

I pay him by the hour anyway.

There are four strangers in this meeting; two by choice and two by lack of it. Whose fault was it? Mine or his? Or was it ours?

Or was it the universe plotting against us? Very Starwar-ish, my drunken haze retorts. It's more like badly written episode of "Ally McBeal", it muses. I laugh. I think its "Boston Legal", I try to correct. The man next to me looks at me wearily. His stare is always loud. Now its yelling at me - Stop getting sloshed and talking to yourself else they will add "one step away from loony bin" clause.

I gulp down noisily to drown his stare-yell.

I made up a new word, I cheer myself.

It's too late, amber whispers in its swirl. Ice cubes tinkle and agree with it.

I refill my glass and feel his silent glare. He won't say anything, I am sure of it. Ties that bind us are hanging by a thin worn thread which is about to be broken permanently.

Arguments. Negotiations. Compromises. Endings.

Its mocking me, its inviting me, its consuming me in its big fat belly filled with words. I twirl the glass. Amber encourages me at the same time when the paper invites.

Throat burns. Eyes water. Hands shake. Head hurts.

I scrawl my sign.

I am suddenly tired.

~Sookie