...and now I leave.

New Year's Prayer

Descend down the angular stairs;
the creature is here.
The scavengers run
for their lives.
The kids linger towards the faded song
deprived of oxygen,
withdrawn from the new year's prayer.
I have grown tired; there's no longer
purpose for you to hide.
You are a slave now
for all the freaks,
and I haven’t found the time.

A configuration through a glass,
head down;
your limbs are wireless.
You are left mutilated
with your feet off the pedal.
There’s no morning star
to revolve around;
prostrate, prostrate
for the new year’s prayer…
there’s nothing more you can do.

You all line up to be
dissolved to the lowest promontory
where the blood of the land
shifts to commission.
Emmanuel, you are without conscience
sitting with a nail
behind the graveyard.
There, sat the machines
waiting for Samil to arrive
on the midst of the new year’s prayer.

You thought nothing of it
there, dear Emmanuel.
You plead for grace,
but someone has to pay
for the damage done.
All demons are in me
and bearing down
beyond the desecrate piles,
where I lay, restless.

You crack me up
till I start to break down
to an uneasy spring
till I shred my own last [good] will.
I’m among the gaslights,
beneath the altar
where the birds feed
on foreign souls
with a lick of the teeth.
Where do we go from here?
Partial sulks of tortured children
are all you remember
from the absent sequence
of the new year’s prayer.
Last edited by Bleed Away at Jan 3, 2010,
I currently don't have the patience to dive into this truly. I enjoyed it though, Fred. Great to have you post.

Only comment was this, like all of your pieces, carries just a hint of preacher... its just a natural tone in your narration and it can work well, though here it stuck out just a bit.
I found it incredibly monotonous, truthfully. Not necessarily the poem itself, but the voice of it is dull, uneventful - and maybe that's the idea and that would be okay if there wasn't this shimmer/glimmer/coffee table of hope hiding somewhere underneath it, in the often referred to but never really mentioned prayer. It's an observational perspective rather than a changing one - stating what we know, or what should be said.

Aha! The tone is established well in the first two lines, but there's no sense of urgency, and it feels lacking without one. You explain much in the last stanza that covers everything I'm noticing about the thing, a passerby, beneath the altar, unforgiven, unworthy, tired, etc.

I don't know what I'm on about. This left me depressed. I will leave it, depressed. But! For fear of total vanity, I offer you this: where the birds feed

You hit the nail on the head on how the perspective poem is very observational, rather than a changing one; the idea seemed to parallel the title. I think the overall voice of the poem wasn't completely intensional. Perhaps it was a subconscious agenda, that simply came out as I wrote.

As far as the prayer is concerned, as you said, was never mentioned but was referenced four times in the poem. There was a prayer in the works for the poem, but I felt was unnecessary, because that would have detracted the overall 'mood' of the poem. I don't know, but it most likely wouldn't have worked. You said this left you depressed, was it the overall mood or was it the tone (or perhaps the content)?

BTW, thanks for the heads up about that grammatically incorrect line I had there
Last edited by Bleed Away at Jan 3, 2010,