Finale
Media
Part of The Carolinian
- Title
- Finale
- extracted text
- the hands of God hands so small they can't quite reach the huge head of the ox in the stable; hands so young and tender amidst the wrinkled, shrunken ones of the temple's sage; hands callous'd, strong, but kind, chiseling a rough beam of wood; hands raised to bless many a child, to heal many a sick, to forgive many a magdalen, to bring back to life many a lazarus; hands sweating blood-crimson; hands riveted to the cross; hands limp, alone with a broken heart in the stillness of a lonely tomb; hands shining glorious, more dazzling than the rising sun on eastern mom: they are the hands of God! by RICARDO DE LA RIVA ff y the leaf on a barren bough sits a mellowed leaf: it quivers, shivers, against the evening breeze; detaches itself to float and fall, to be borne away by a wailing stream: must it be so when i am gone? by RICARDO DE LA RIVA interlude with the noose the advent of the noose let there be music wrap the throbbing, mellifluous note around me i can choke in its drowning stupor let the toes stand the cormorant pirouette suffering the nails dug their graves, split their agonies the dark tresses are but seaweeds clawing the night the opium-drunk eyes behind foggy lashes denies the denouement which is the corrosion of the flesh to that of a wriggling worm but i am content. let there be mirth peal the bells that god stole from a spire to suspend pendulous in my throat the world blooms and bloats and cracks in the lungs over a blooming, bloating, cracking, joke open the mouth, contort the face, toss back the head, shed a tear, grow a canker, because life is jest sometimes, the diaphragm ripples a butterfly fatigued and painful to breath wrought but i am content. c □ finale Now, in seismic agitation, His emaciated flesh Meekly trembles. A mournful theologic voice. Gasping in anguish. Crushes in. Then, a White Hand clasps, A bugle sounds. The house weeps. by CLAUDE AL. EVANGELIO then the noose comes then the noose comes, beckoning furtive in its defamed, doom-starved ring in seemingly tremulous rapture it commences its swing, of ballet dancer and juggler wed are its grace and finesse; to the right, to the left a pendulum dereliction shammed to the left, to the right death deity! hallucinating fascinating coding its contiguity ominous i stagger backward raving with scorn bare a claw, freeze a fang, blossom an eye, the noose persists, mutely adamant so i flirt my toes and twirl myself near toy a finger, dart a shoulder while the noose is lost in a lullabye jerk a limb, jeer a smile while the noose is lost in a lullabye jilt a seaweed, bare a neck while the noose. . . i'm caught!!! by MELINDA M. BACOL January-February, 1966 Page Twenty-one
- Date
- 1966
- Rights
-
