Felt compeled to try a imagine what it would be like to find ones self in such a horrifying situation...how would it feel. . . truly I could never know . . .

Playing Hide’n Get Hostage

Cannot rewind the split second,
Cannot kick dirt in the face of chance
and run for yesterday.
I wait in the sweat of terror.
My breath bludgeoned and prostrate
I sit.
I must
in the reserve of my bosom
force my lungs to rise.
Inhale once more the world,
my nostrils flared to catch
the lingering vapors of humanity.
Inhale once this tangible moment.
Take in the child.
Take in the son, me.
Smell the father, me.
Draw in the man of my name.

My voice bellows up from my belly,
a hideous, petrifying yowl.
Mind pacing this cage, I roar,
eating my humiliation.
Madness caught at the barrier of my lips,
words sliding through even and heavy.
Words pumping my heart.
Thoughts running to catch an open boxcar home.
I can catch the train.
I can catch the train
if I could only run.
If I could only run
I’d lay back on the couch
and watch a little TV.
We’ve got time,
Darlin’ come lay next to me.

The loathing crawls like cockroaches,
red ants at the back of my neck.
I am their meal.
I am the milk they will gorge upon
bloating their heads.
This table,
this tableau set for mine.
My eyes blinded, but not to truth.
My hands bound, but not from freedom.
My image smeared, but not my dignity.
Blind metal, fired in revenge,
Let fall into my bone.
Only my bone.
I wail.
You don’t really understand
what it is to scream.
I cry.
No time to know my own death.

jeanne rene 6/04