...Be gone to the gun...

Fell Inside
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
August 15th, 2006


No one pushed you, over the edge of that cold stone border
The rim crusted with algae, the edges smooth, elbows rest
Looking down to darkness, a scent of old water, the sounds
Just tiny waves on the border of an ocean not met, this deep
Entry way is to earth, a depth of lime, clay, and sordid entity
Drink from the tin cup, haul the bucket higher, she is near

Further down the road, a mule pulls a wagon,
The driver in straw hat, skin darker than sun burn
Life out on the terrain is endless, the end of the
Desert flat indiscernible, even the eagle's eyes

Run from this distance, shut in frustration, so you sit, another
Wasted day, take advantage of the money you do not earn
The bills pile high, and the trash in your head is endless, the
Boundary stops here, if you lean further you might fall deep
Inside the well, and your hollow cry not heard, for you came
To a place uninvited, to visit without invitation, go west go far

She is kind, gentle, like a mother she loves me
Her sisterhood is like a nun, solid, pure and white
Bridal vow within her heart, she is filled with light
The smell of the solitary yellow rose is upon her

Sweet, your words soothe my tired spirit, the destiny bird is
Circling like a curious vulture, awaiting to alight on my brow
Remove all inhibition and dark boundary, he is as effortless
As a turtle after the rain, or the squawking ducks in that
Man-made pond, over there, the walk is endless, but you
Are holding my hand (my heart) and you love me, I do you...

Hold this gun forward, the firing squad awaits the victor
Look at this tall lanky criminal, walking in prison clothes
The grey wall, of well stone is behind him, he peers out of
Tear stained eyes to the ground; the smell of fresh urine
Evaporates before they aim to fire, shoot him down, it
Sure is a waste of bullets, he learns the lesson of

PAIN to others, the vacuum sucks him in, he is on his
Knees begging for mercy, crying out in waste
Using names, roles, and identities that never
Belonged to him, his wife is pregnant she stands

Without expression by the iron gate, departs
Without a wave, there is another man waiting in the car,
He is the father of her firstborn child, this love surpassed
All time--her husband grovels, turns his back, the jailor
Pulls the rope about his waist causing him to stand tall
One does not shoot the prisoner from behind he must learn

Manhood this last second, it is September and the cool
Breeze of night time fills the nostrils of a child
Doing homework, preparing a lesson and yawning
Before bed, his mother tucks him in, and says
His prayers with him, a gentle pink streak
Paints the night time sky, the velvet grey shadows fill the

Spots between, and outside car doors slam, voices laugh
Togetherness is spotted from the highest throne by the
Father (God) and "it is good" HE loves with wild abandon
Allows the countenance of hope to expire in the sinner and
Recuperate in the weary of heart, this soul is boundless...
My new friend is wise, a spot of blue sky

A repetition of faith, embedded in a voice
A man is so, he is or not, but a boy is never
A chain link fence to the frail, the gentle one
Who glows, her energy returns, fresh, to live again...