Birth, Darkness and Rags and Death and Eternity – a poem

Birth, Darkness and Rags
and Death and Eternity

(a poem by    ~burning woman~  )

he came into the world
like all do who must come
innocence expecting nothing
and they watched carefully
(the soul makers)
this new thing they’d caused
to see if the program took.

he left the home in his time
to see beyond Main Street
he’d been told in school of course
there was nothing beyond
(he didn’t believe them)

the dark grew in the alleys
of the earth’s slums and favelas
when the lights dimmed
(for him they always did)
and when they went out, grew darker.

he walked on for such was his game
something pulling, something pushing
something crying, something laughing
it was a cat (owl) a woman

in a lighted doorway
an infant cried into its silence
and the woman cried into her loss.
(the owl glided on by-nature’s ghost
snatched the hovering soul
disappeared in the forest forever)

he ran from there.

great waves tossed his spectral frame
black oceans heaving black ships
filled with black men and brown women
(strangers in chains)
chocolate colored children bodies
floated on toothed waves
(feeding bloated sharks)

he came upon a stinking port
anchored in rusty chains to a burning shore
he heard the guns thunder
in the ever night, the always dark

he walked up stony smelly alleys
heard something crying
in a smoky lighted doorway
a child cried soft words muffled
in its mother’s torn blouse

he ran from there
haunted by the gun shot
that laid the man in the mud
the woman’s scream
(he thought he hadn’t heard)

the soldier’s curse
(he wished hadn’t touched him)
the evil eye of the gun’s barrel
in his emaciated face.

(he’d hoped not to see)
I am the innocent
he mumbled and fell
in bloodied battlefield mud.

he died no longer innocent
no longer expecting (nothing)
wise and knowing it does not matter
what you think or what you do.

for the ever night is the arena
and the rider on the black horse
is the fate master.
(eternity is a curse)

he remembers as he runs
followed in the always dark
by steely galloping hooves
(let there not be another)

but he knows, oh how well he knows
there will always be
he knows the nightmare
they call humanity must run its course
on its eternal merry-go-round.

6 thoughts on “Birth, Darkness and Rags and Death and Eternity – a poem

  1. Regis Auffray

    Hi Sha’Tara,

    The stark and sharp imagery serves to awaken emotions which in turn stimulate thoughts (not happy ones for sure but that is the reality of this world). This is a powerful poem.

    By the way, the other evening when we were working on trying to stop Gmail from “hogging” cyberspace, we thought we’d found a way. I was most disappointed when, come morning, my Gmail inbox had once again captured 98 percent of my emails. However, you had got me to think about the settings and, after some further “tweaking” yesterday, all that I had in my Gmail inbox this morning was a message from Google congratulating me on a such a clean one. Hopefully, that problem has been solved.

    Wishing you well,



  2. Rosaliene Bacchus

    Wow, Sha’Tara, what powerful imagery of our journey through life, culminating in the final three verses that sums up its futility.

    “he knows the nightmare
    they call humanity must run its course
    on its eternal merry-go-round.”

    Vengeance of the gods?


  3. Sha'Tara Post author

    Thanks for commenting, Rosaliene. Vengeance of the gods? Well, I don’t know, I was having a moment – perhaps a blip to that pre-suicide attempt time. I like to put the harshest kind of reality in front of me and taste it for myself… a reminder of where I am and how much I want to change it. Reminds me of one of my life’s sayings: “Expect the worst and you’ll never be disappointed.” However, chances are you’ll be happily “disappointed” when the worst doesn’t happen – though it continues to happen to others… and I’m having a harder and harder time dealing with that. Why others? Why them particularly and not me? I don’t like privilege, it has a sour taste that won’t go away.


  4. Lisa R. Palmer

    Even death cannot stop the merry-go-round, as we are born again…

    Such powerful imagery and emotions; the horror and reality of the “ever dark”…

    Yet there are places where hope still reigns… 🙂


    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      There has to be places for hope to dwell otherwise, what point would there be to experiencing this life? I think of it as so well described in Tolkien’s “The Silmarillion” and to a lesser degree, in the Lord of the Ring trilogy. I remember a time of terrible darkness, my last life which ended at age 26 in 1943 in Paris under the Gestapo. I remember thinking that there was no longer any light anywhere, that it had been extinguished and all that was left was global dystopia. Yet though I didn’t see it then, that war ended and the world pulled itself out; and dared hope for a new kind of peace. That too was shattered, and very quickly, but we’re still here and we still have choices. I came back, I remembered, and I chose differently this time. We can do this if we want it.



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