Baruch Goldstein and his Hebron Massacre
(Feburary 25, 1994)
Man woke up, greeted family members,
Treating them normal, his voice spoke tender;
no regret to forget yet
his wife and children;
fend for themselves soon-- could they read this
in his eyes?
Let goodbyes of affection part from his lips
as fate would mark him self-made martyr.
At the Tomb of the Patriarch, lives became barter.
Made dead wrong faster that Hebron massacre?
Made worthwhile by long-term lasting?
only for shortness
of human life span?
held fast to that breath-taking breath
just before breaking time's fabric
Making death's-caste mask quick;
basking in silence, arrested since;
to die, but first-- to wince,
with life torn limb from limb;
And from thence to whence?!
Is this sin?
That is the question!
BUT THROUGH ETERNITY exasperatingly at last!
Sticking to the mind of Baruch Goldstein-- yet
castrating birth of plenty other designs--
any more worthy than to be beaten?
Mauled by the mob in trade-off,
gory story of barter:
Glory in God's Honor
joining ranks by charter.
No move smarter, bur muddled by slaughter.
Blotting sinners from time immemorial.
Just picture for the records, this mixture malignly spinning free
in sea of dust and debris-- another second of infinity--
no longer in the reckoning.
For the dead know nothing
until time's finished passing.
There where all will be revealed:
calling in the sheep from the field.
© 2009 Jeffrey E. Wyatt
IN DARKNESS OF MOURNING CAUGHT
Not star, not planet, not moon
But a meteor flung too soon.
In darkness of morning caught
By folly's sweet melancholy,
Saturn's child lay deep in thought
Among cut-down trees from wild fields;
To be confined, hard heart reeled,
With sixteen men like sleeping logs
Sounding steady bubbling chorus
Like gnarled pack of snarling dogs;
Steel bars surrounding like forest
In this room within a room.
By jeffrey e. wyatt
Today my piggish mule
Leaps from dark pools:
-- butang choir
"To live forever"
-- A metaphor,
New life and more
And quickly severed
My mortal need
To rest and feed
By giving goals to
My colored soul's
Grey dream diagram:
I fear forsaking;
I've burst to waking
The earth's my taking.
By jeffrey e. wyatt
In my prison I see what I see
From what's risen from random debris
But when vision reveals it's me
And my decision that creates fission,
This joining of reason, permeating
Splitting reality's totality in actuality
Describing only me, my impressing limits,
Because life's bigger than I'm expressing,
I solicit truth,
Rigging forgiveness from dentist to leave
Me one tooth, that I grieve to learn
This one kernel forsooth meant this,
This one lonely proof,
That I doctor myself
And the healing burns, yearning to know
As I am cast from unbreakable mold
I break when I am old
If not before
jeffrey e. wyatt @2003
Mounted her steed, encountering
Summer sun's profound advent
Floundering gloriously demented;
Sounding loud vox Humana
Countermarched cold tramantana
Furiously floundering a manana
Till Sweet Sister Winter began
To whisper soothing Fata Morgana;
Not wanting to dismiss her unconvincing,
"just another phase, my dear,
"give it just a few more days,
"for change is here commencing."
But shrugging shoulders Anautarchia
Merely folded her arms glowering,
Silently missing Winter's charms,
Darkly harboring inner alarms,
Unable to envision new blooms flowering
Her patience fuming and spirit cowering
Her pericardial fluids not assuaging
The beat of her heart-- it's friction aging.
Until late evening passed and early morning rose
Red and shining, petals glistening newborn pose.
Yet Anautarchia Americana slept hard,
Exhausted from her disregardful thought process;
Lost unconscious, unknowing that her losses
Guard the gains of progress, like grains of sand
In congress beneath Winter's stillness,
For only a time, a song of rest.
@2000 Jeffrey Wyatt
anautarchia (pronounced an au TORE kee uh);
noun meaning "perpetual unhappiness".
example in sentence: "There are people who live in anautarchia for no
apparent reason, making everyone else in their life miserable as well."
(not just another warning)
Western thought bought by the masses;
Best learned from youth, taught in classes;
Then reinforced in course of time.
In context of healing others,
Invested mind becomes blinded
by chatter of poorest agenda.
When can't see forest for trees;
Not listening, missing;
Looking far with binoculars
When needing to be ambiocular.
Whether just a word or bullet to the brain
Permanent relief remains truest gain.
@2000+another justjeff rhyme for the times
Grain of sands rubs hands
Oyster makes the Pearl
Pain of man inside
Hoists flags soon unfurled
But gagged and snubbed pride,
Boundaries sight unseen
Sounding silent screams
Can hide conscience plain
Our sessions maintain
Makes professional name.
How exchange keeps us sane.
@2000+another justjeff rhyme for the times...
Death's Density: Not Quiet Quietus
your patience festering
as life fills you, thrills you,
yet leaves you empty
at unrest, pondering
pestering you with
the meaning of it all:
but with regard to that,
this race to unknown,
we observe from our place
from our own backyard
there in high heaven's space
where lone bird flying far
leaves no trace as it roams
just leaves us grieving
conceiving density of stone.
instead of perceiving
immensity of grass,
we stomp the grace
and scorch the past,
like Nero prancing with
never quid pro quo,
but out of tune too soon;
not burning forever
but burned up, passe',
forgot how to play.
©2003, another justjeff rhyme for the times...
Copyright © 2006 Jeffrey E. Wyatt
Jeffrey E. Wyatt, a graduate from UNCW, is a practicing massage therapist
who also indulges in multiple art forms including writing prose and poetry,
fiction and nonfiction; plays guitar, piano, and trumpet; composing music
for same, including original scoring for 5-piece jazz band ensemble.
for example of his attempts at combining words & images go to
http://www.justjeff.bravehost.com to view; this website remains under
construction, but has enough to display some originality.
finally, although especially proud of his own personal ideas of creativity,
jeffrey feels collaboration to be his biggest forte`; with, words as his
largest talent yet biggest enemy, call him and find out: (910) 233-3712.
or you can write firstname.lastname@example.org; remember, we all know what comes