Monday, July 13, 2009


The Wrong Awakening ~ Peter Gric

In a room full of night
Where hostages take soundings
On the drawing of the light

Whatever happened to your perfectly formed beliefs,
Or the gold-leaf arguments encased in lawyers’ briefs?
Were you bitten by the monsters in this distant colony
Did you let them steal your heart for wanting to be free?

Did you watch the age of enlightenment
Give way to discontent
In advertising loyalty and corporate assent?

Whatever happened to all those Technicolor days between
The opening of your eyes from Disney’s monochrome dream
And the arrival of these lodgers with their skeleton keys
Who access your secret attic rooms with knowing eyes that see

Your broken childhood toys
The ones you held most dear
Broken by the fragile hand of all your adult joys


Yodood said...

Adulthood is a terminal disease if not seen to be the festering of the germ of human exceptionality with which all children are inoculated and from which the cure is breaking out of the quarantine of close minded, discontented conclusions into the light of one's own, acquired age of enlightenment.

the walking man said...

The ere are only two uses for my childhood toys...of which I have none left so one of them is pointless and that is their resale value. The second is the memory of them.

I find much more pleasure in my adult being in this moment than I can in memory of pleasure past so I think I will simply continue to stumble my way to the next heartbeat, not concerning myself with aught but the moment at hand.

Jimmy Bastard said...

This one strikes a particular chord with me. I cannae put my finger on any one element, but rather a sequence of well written verses compliment each other perfectly.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Yodood: "one's own, acquired age of enlightenment" may shine a light back down the path, hopefully (less travelled by).

Walking Man: Unfortunately for those of us living in the presence of young teenagers, the past is often illuminated in all its gory detail :)

Jimmy: the striking of chords that echo down our individual paths - there are, no doubt common moments, if not physically, then emotionally, in all our pasts.

All - I must admit that I'm not really happy with this piece, various verses were written some weeks apart and therefore do not hang on the same thread.

Liza Ursu said...

"In a room full of night"
A brilliant opening, and if I may say, the broken-up style in which you wrote this piece is rather fitting!

Anonymous said...

It speaks of loss of innocence and loss of integrity on many levels. I like the structure too, 3,4,3,4,3- it draws the eye to your excellent opening and closing triplets.

As with many of your pieces, it deserves longer contemplation than I have given it today! I like to hold a book of poems, to curl up with it, read and re-read. There is something about reading a poem on a page. So when are you (and all the other poets who visit here) going to publish an anthology? I also like hearing poems spoken by their authors- I go to Myspace for this. There is something about hearing the emphases that poets put on various words when they read.

James Higham said...

Love's innocence turned on its side.

Pisces Iscariot said...

Liza: thanks!

Cinnamon: Your comments are much appreciated. Publish an anthology... mmm I would have to self-publish since the possiblity of any of my work being accepted by a literary agent/publisher appears rather slim - and I have never read any of my poems out loud - too scary!

James: Love's innocence has to grow up at some stage :)