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At the Murder Scene of a Soul
by Max Bouillet“…and how do you trace chalk around a dead soul?”
when we lose faith
we die
we become chalk outlines
scurrying across the floors
of believers,
slinking under their sofas
when their faith
is too strong,
and hovering on the ceilings
above lovers
that have yet
to learn the
art of deceit.
we wait for the
opportunity to slip
into an innocentÂ’s shadow
and satiate our need
to devour their faith
in order that we may have a taste
of what we once had. 05/24/2004 Posted on 05/24/2004
Copyright © 2024 Max Bouillet
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 05/24/04 at 11:46 PM ok, my brain just went off in several different directions with this... now, my sleepy thoughts shall be on this piece of poignant morbidity... the faithless, sitting around, waiting for a tiny morsel, a single drop, of substance and hope... something to touch, if for a moment... ahhhhhhhhh... my brain is working, and i'm loving it... this is grand... blessings... |
| Posted by Graeme Fielden on 05/25/04 at 12:49 AM An interesting supposition Br Maxwell! Is it cynicism or reality that is responsible for the destruction of the romantic? Or are the three perpetually entwined within an urbane menage et tois, tug-o-war? Cool stuff! Regards to the muse…Good to see he's back to work! |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/25/04 at 05:14 PM powerful insight, Max and as it is believed by some that eating the courage of an enemy develops or adds additional courage in the consumer, in that vain of reasoning, I need desperately to munch on a brain sandwich to replicate the brains once in my possession and too, to much desperately on the love I lost which was a deep love, and the faith I lost is immesurable. thanks again, Max. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 05/25/04 at 05:14 PM munch on love |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/25/04 at 05:30 PM Evocative, thought provoking as usual. Certainly adds new meaning to "giving up the ghost." |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 05/26/04 at 12:59 AM Is there anything more heart breaking than losing faith? Thank God there is a way back. You've pictured so clearly the dissatisfaction of the person who has had vibrant faith and then lost it. |
| Posted by Ashok Sharda on 05/26/04 at 02:53 PM 'when we lose faith
we die' and with us dies the object of our faith, which, otherwise, exists in the existence of the subject as all the object does. Yes, hope and faith are synonyms and waiting in hopefullness tantamounts to waiting in faith.Faithlessness too is a faith in this sense. I like this immensely.
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| Posted by Karl Waldbauer on 05/27/04 at 06:29 AM "hovering on the ceilings above lovers that have yet to learn the art of deceit." Max, this is your darkest work I've had the pleasure to read. A Gothic monument in words.
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| Posted by Maria Terezia Ferencz on 03/23/05 at 07:06 PM Chilling poem a soul screams out from this one. I love it. |
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