Wednesday, April 8, 2009

My Soul is a Can of Sardines

This weeks Sunday Scribblings is "scary".  I uploaded this earlier this week but coincidentally it fits the subject.  The inspiration for this is loosely based on the novel The Road by Cormac McCarthy.  A very bleak and scary post-apocalyptic tale that includes a scene in a stumbled upon fallout shelter.  I say loosely, as there were no canned fish in the scene, but the survivors ate the more palletable storings first.


Rectangular gunmetal free of reflection

Eternally passed for a sweeter selection

Storm cellar denizen awaiting the end

Inanimate, lonely and seeking a friend

What will it take to have someone’s lust

Waiting here coolly as skin turns to rust

Most people hope for their fate up in heaven

I pray for the day that brings Armageddon

For driving survivors below ground with me

These prisoners of fallout will set me free

Their spiraling famine means dark destiny

But before they arrive they will twist of the key…

 

…my soul is a can of sardines

12 comments:

  1. Nicely done. Powerful.

    You can find all the prompt site news on my blog.

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  2. Not trying to sound too gloomy here, but graveyards are also a maggot’s feast! Nice poem.

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  3. ooohhh neat!
    i like how you play words!

    http://eternitycallsus.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-am-scared.html

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  4. I did read the book...you caught the mood perfectly. I still can't get the image of the darkness out of my mind.

    b

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  5. The Road is one of the best books I read. I like the way you wrote the poem.

    as discussed in a writer's workshop

    Kill Word Verification

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  6. Now that would a really good evocation of desperate people with hungry bellies and horrible food were it not for one thing - I LOVE sardines! LOL!

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  7. I, on the other hand, the one opposite Jay, find sardines loathsome in reality but not in theory. They become a beautiful thing to the old man and the sea. They’re London’s half a dozen kanaka divers on a commodious, five-ton ketch; Miller’s breast to breast towards the wall of self, frustrate, isolate, sardine upon sardine all seeking the universal can-opener; and now your soul is a can of them. These are the pleasing sardines : )

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  8. Glad you all could enjoy the dark briny weirdness!

    Jay, if good folks such as you didn't like the buggers they wouldn't bother canning them in the first place!

    Missalister, wow! Talk about food for the soul. Thanks for that parallel.

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  9. Ain’t no thing, music man : )

    Been having a field day here on your site, btw, really looking it up and down. "Fate" was great and I totally dug everything from Cedar Groves on back to day one, ‘cause I’m more a fan of that sort of thing than rhyming couplets. Even as insane as I am with work and school etc ad nauseum, I can’t fathom how I missed you in the SS line-up prior to the sardines…

    But it’s alright now, ‘cause everything’s funkin’ loopy. Yes, yes, your acoustic stuff is fine and all but holy smoke I can see you in the zone workin’ that infinite electric machine! All that screaming and crying out from the soul, like shutting up and letting the guitar do all the talking, the storming, like putting a mash of bluesy hooks all in one bag of souls and tossing it to the wind…Lord have mercy!

    Ha! I came here to glory in the honor of being on your blog roll and look at me, I’m a mess ; )

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