The Harbinger of Death

The Harbinger of Death

A Poem by A.T.B.

 

I stand looking
across the dusty street
at the cinderblock walls of
her humble timeless dwelling
swept by desert sands in
need of a more peaceful
place to amass
and speckled by shrapnel and bullets
whose crackling sound
I can still hear
if I put my ear against the wall.
the slugs lie where they dropped
like dead flies.
like dead people.
the rusty metallic front door
whose chipped green paint
faded long ago
sometimes the wind would rattle.
I see her as she
finally comes out
clad in a black abaya
the hardness of her face
tampered by a mercurial smile.
her eyes squinting against
the perfidies of the world
as she walks past drivers
hailing potential customers
blurring into a background
of people adrift in their own city.
 
don’t venture down those ominous
ways,
I warned.
don’t thread into that austere
city.
the harbinger of death was here
and I heard your name called
dearly.

© 2008 A.T.B.


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Featured Review

The dust of sadness is compelling crackles with suspense. It is like one who travels ahead of his military legion to secure nedcessities and sleeping accommodation, finding just few fragments of a world what is not anymore. In this searing poem of guilt and paralysis I found an ancient smoke, the fame of the old Mesopotamia and the honor of their inhabitans. The grammar form imperative is piercing the reader with a sustaining message. How comes that I read you the first time? Would be good if we could be friends and read each other. Currently I write on a book using new and old material. This was widely open space...impressive talent of yours.

Posted 12 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

i really like how you describe the walls. the echos of violence still there like a shell on the beach. the sort of menacing mystical energy that is left over and calls out the names of those fated to die.

you write with power.

Posted 12 Years Ago


ahhhh. i am so tardy in getting to my reading list, that everyone below has already said what i intended to write. bravo, again. glad to see you are featured in ms. susi's group.

Posted 12 Years Ago


I loved these lines the most.......

"I warneddon't thread into that austerecitythe harbinger of death was hereand I heard your name calleddearly"

This was really a great poem Cabala Muse!!! Thanks for sharing a look on the darker parts of life.
Kelley Frost

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 2 people found this review constructive.

You've got yourself quite a vivid imagination, and you sure utilise it to distinct delight in this poem. The imagery of the woman moving and roving amonsgt the streets, the way you describe her, is so very surreal and yet foreboding.

Posted 12 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

I really liked that. It made me think of a muslim woman in Iraq or Afghanistan. It made me think of the difficulties of living and trying to survive in a war zone. Loved it =) I had to look up "abaya." Thanks. I learned a new word. hehe

Posted 12 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

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JC
"the harbinger of death was here and I heard your name called dearly"... reminds me of something of John Donne " Do not ask for whom the bell tolls", ominous and foreboding.

This definitely has a different tone and feel from previous works, albeit, it is still a great piece.
I think perhaps you are missing a "d" though: "shrapnel an(d) bullets".
May the wind of change continue to inspire the pen, and thank you for the invite.
JC

Posted 12 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

The dust of sadness is compelling crackles with suspense. It is like one who travels ahead of his military legion to secure nedcessities and sleeping accommodation, finding just few fragments of a world what is not anymore. In this searing poem of guilt and paralysis I found an ancient smoke, the fame of the old Mesopotamia and the honor of their inhabitans. The grammar form imperative is piercing the reader with a sustaining message. How comes that I read you the first time? Would be good if we could be friends and read each other. Currently I write on a book using new and old material. This was widely open space...impressive talent of yours.

Posted 12 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

This is my favorite of all your words I've read. She would not stay. She has to go. I dreamed I was in that place one night last week. I dreamed I was there.

Posted 12 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

I really like the way you write. You describe things so... I can't remember the word.... but It's a good write and your stile is good!

Posted 12 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


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9 Reviews
Added on April 16, 2008
Last Updated on May 21, 2008

Author

A.T.B.
A.T.B.

http://cabalamuse.wordpress.com



About
I am neither fish, fowl, nor good red herring (from ASK THE DUST by John Fante.) I'm the author of writings that are yet to be understood. Soon, the world will catch on. more..

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