The Eye of the Beholder

 “Pain from pearls, hey little girl. How much have you grown?  Pain from pearls, hey little girl.  Flowers for the ones you’ve known.  Are you on fire from all the years?  What would you give for your kid fears?”  Amy Ray



The Eye of the Beholder


Behold me in the twilight zone,
          episodic with
grotesque faces of doctors




I slept in my parents
                         tousled sheets for a week,
avoided the dark, the TV
                             with parents frightened


of the Cuban Missile Crisis
               still happening in drop drill.
                Accounts of





 Deformed faces 

                         of survivors
plead from burned mouths 

                        spread over faces
                                                                       dead, not dead,
           eyes hang from sockets,
death forever imprinted on retinas.


                                                                 Pearls are for tears
harder and harder to cry.
Rivers and rivers of 

                                                                 human bones float
with spirits unable to be identified
                       or set free.


No way to separate them,

                           no way
                        to slither

from the

                          serpents vertebrae,
from paper cranes

                     too soaked with blood and sea
                                                                 to carry spirits away.


                       America did this.  America did.








                        too many others

                        pile up

                        the next atomic bombs

                                with no vision beyond fear
                               from the eye of the beholder.





~ by dianeklammer on February 20, 2013.

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