Dark Future

You go to sleep and wake to a steady drip
and wonder if it’s radioactive or pure and clear,
like the streams you once knew.

Above ground, no fresh water remains:
no trace of rain
or cloud or sky.

There is just the twilight of your cave,
the weak rays that find their way
through fissures in the ceiling,

a distant sun revealing itself in your shelter,
bouncing helter-skelter
to the maze below.

Damp steals everything unless you shut it up tight,
but even the cans you stacked so neatly have rusted;
the labels peeled off long ago and every day’s a surprise.

If only you could give it all just to see the sun rise,
to swim in the ocean, cleanse your filthy skin
that you must live in all alone until you too are vaporised.

Kim M. Russell, 7th November 2019

Image result for man in a cave
Image found on archive7.co.uk

My response to dVerse Poets Pub Meet the Bar by Changing Your Perspective

Björn is our host today and he’s talking about points of view in poetry. He says that poets tend to get stuck in one or a few familiar ones and wants us to consider the advantages of the various perspectives.

Björn asks us to go out of our comfort zones and change the perspective. We can either start from a poem we’ve written and/or posted previously and change its perspective, or simply write from a perspective we’re not used to. I took a poem I wrote and posted on 7th September, changed its perspective, line length, form and title.

37 thoughts on “Dark Future

  1. What a bleak poem, Kim. Makes you wonder if it’s worth surviving…

    My stand-out lines were: bouncing helter-skelter
    to the maze below.

    and:the labels peeled off long ago and every day’s a surprise.

    Interestingly, they are both potentially happy lines, but in this context they are terrible. I mean, they inspire terror…

    Liked by 2 people

  2. One of the first short stories I ever wrote, when I was 13, was about a family running from atomic bombs in the city, to a cave they had outfitted for survival. In my tale, like a dystopian Anne Frank, no one survived.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Second person is so oracular, is it not? Holding up a bone and bidding it to sing … Such vision it allows, stepping neatly around the personal infinity and the god who observes. A piercing eye here for the unseeable and unsayable.

    Liked by 1 person

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