Visions from Another Place ( The Conduit Volume Three-Subset I)

image by Manu Pombrol

The wicked tempests devour whole,

Yet these “savages” 
are neither restless nor retired,

On an island nation much different than our own

a palace stands still

Despite walls of crumbling stone,

A "king" rules with scepter high

upon a throne salvaged from 

citizens, denizens and constituencies

Being no match for the monkeys,
that dangle and swing
from those decapitated trees of dream

a prince cannot conspire
like the ne’er-do-well 
who's ever quick to swallow,

w
o
r
d
s    un
          spoken
                     
Yet they each have their own
semblance of faith, 
that,
when deconstructed
illustrates potential
possibilities 
as to how

Some things still
remain stronger  
than the pervasive
howls and oppressively
toned splintering
screams

of slivers-

etched and tuned,
the unreachable palaces
housing those
delinquencies within

Some call it shrapnel
others karma

I say relief,
for the print could be
much smaller and


the level could've risen higher

The king breathes shallow
as ink dries to skin


this tumbled tomb
paints parables
of irony

For it was the medic
 who's back turned wayside

a distance from events 
and shame-less-

He stands, as a leader should,

preaching to minions 
who just happened to be


a people much stronger 
than the illness he freed


This is a poem I originally posted last March.  I've reissued it, with a few changes and have linked to the Fortresses, Castles, Palaces and Royal Houses prompt for Poetry Picnic Week 33


as well as for Magpie Tales 115