Perhaps Hope in a Poet's Purgatory
...And if the dam breaks open many years too soon...
No, that’s not right, for the dam did break
Long before the moment it was s’posed to;
It’s not an ‘if’ question to be wondered about
When the waters’ve already run shallow
And everything you could write
Has already been written
Since that one burst in time
When ideas gushed out of mind
And flooded the little ghost town
Of a page with too many blank lines.
I remember, back then, before the event,
Writer’s Block and me had met up
So as to discuss how to rebel against
The dam the ancient natives in power built
To block the thoughts of its citizens.
We were stranded in an empty desert city-
One we had found after daring to abandon
Our marooned ship called “Perhaps”
On a shore of lava masquerading as sand.
The dry heat assaulted us too fast,
And the grains seeming to melt our toes
Ushered us farther and faster away from the boat
Into what the island before us had to behold.
We entered a house among the ruins-
Our feet relieved to meet a floor
Less likely to cause skin to smoke,
Then reading beyond the stone-framed window,
We analyzed the dunes
Of the home we were reduced to,
Staying put where we were,
Obviously, with nowhere to go,
Not knowing how or where to get food
Nor when the next drop of water
Would welcome our thirsty eyes
Drained of tears and of the vision
We dreamed for our future as poets.
A couple days passed by
In the purgatory
We were unfortunate to find
Without having to sin to arrive
Because of losing the words that got us there.
Not much time was left for us to survive
If we didn’t get up and do something ‘bout it,
So we risked exploring the dangers
Of a realm dead-set on drowning us
In the deathly static of a sweltering ocean.
Barefoot, we traversed miles until,
Finally, when the bones of below began to show-
Skeleton visibly tracing our skin from underneath,
A sight we desperately hoped wasn’t a mirage
Appeared before eyes, bloodshot and squinted.
A dam welcomed us like the oasis it was-
Except, at the time, our withered minds
Didn’t know of its volcanic status.
We figured a dam equals water equals life,
Denying any possibility of deception.
As quick as our bloody feet would allow,
We raced to the hope we thought we found-
A way to replenish the drought within us,
Yet the first problem we ran into
Was how much was obstructed,
Second issue: access was limited,
Meaning we couldn’t reach salvation
Without destroying the wall barring us from it,
But if the dam was broken open,
It’d flood the history existing behind,
Waving goodbye to us along with said existence.
To Be Continued...probably...