The birds have thus gone silent in the gray sky,
Nothing flies between this life and this death;
Solid ground and space and breathing flesh;
Naught hovers now but the murderous device.
Latitude 33 modify to latitude 35.
20 minutes north alter to 45.
Horror fails even our most tested imagination,
Thus we’ll not sense our own fluttering demise
Caught then, perched, set to firmly plunge
The feet, landing unhappily, upon the blade.
Longitude 44 change to 51.
24 minutes east to 45.
Only in catastrophe does hush go unnoticed,
As the smallest gasp of the smallest possible breath,
Only in the inescapable horror-show do they enter
Exhaling through our dreadful sinking exactness.
Lock and load! Goddamnit! Now drop that shell!
Let’s bang some brown flesh to everlasting hell!
Over a billion barrels of bobbing death await
Silent in the gray sky, zero hour knell!
Copyright © 2006 mrp / thepoetryman
Nice poem & site. I admire your willingness of free speech.
Quite powerful.
indeed. Nice work
KYLEE (DESPAIR),
Thank you.
Renegade,
Too kind my friend.
graeme,
Thank you.
Peace.
i looked up the longitude and latitude..OMFG
your words are so powerful, i’m breathless
Was my longitude and latitude correct? :>) My head ain’t on straight, but my longitude and latitude are more or less even. :>)