Monday, March 7, 2016

The Thing That Was Created

Among the rolled up plans,
the coffee mugs,
the beakers,

there was one thing which was not like the others

because
it was alive.

At first, the thing that had been created was the object
of much lively discussion,
amusement and
conjecture

until it demonstrated that it was dangerous.

Then they
wanted to kill it, but it 
wanted its life as much as they wanted theirs,
as much as I want mine
and you want yours.

It fought
and was denounced;
it killed
and was set upon by its very creators.

Among the observers, both lay and professional,
the officers of the court
and those accusing and accused, judging and judged,

there was one which was not like the others

because
the bloody thing,
howling and unhuman,

alone among them all,
was innocent.
______

 

10 comments:

said...

This reminds me of The Call of the Wild (which I'm presently reading to my children). Humans beat the living funk out the dogs, and from then on out, the dogs know that at the slightest hint of maybe-possibly-even-just-a-little-bit-I'm-going-to-be-attacked (by man or dog), those beautiful beasts had best blood-rage first, lest they be devoured.

The same goes for humans, big or small. There's a fine line between guilt and innocence, particularly when mental instability is involved. It doesn't take much to create a monster.

INSANELY brilliant poem, Shay.

Cloudia said...

Inevitable rhythm married to other worldly images that speak deep things about life in this one

Sioux said...

Shay--The whole thing--as usual--just blows me away, but the last three stanzas/chunks are especially incredible.

"... howling and unhuman." Wow!

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Innocence has a hard time in this world. Brilliantly done, my friend.

hedgewitch said...

Your word choices here are immaculate--I could quote the whole thing back but maybe the best example, short, is 'unhuman.' Nothing more so than innocence--we only have it for a few brief months before speech I think, as even children can't hold on to it in, as Sherry says, this world. This is a tonal poem to me, in that sort of coffee-colored monochrome that is sepia, which gives a mood of time passing to every detail--of loss, of change momentarily captured in a grasp that can't hold it...just an excellent, mature piece of writing, Shay.

Kerry O'Connor said...

Such an affecting poem, Shay. I cannot help be on the side of the victim.

Lynn said...

Surreal!

Mama Zen said...

This is really moving, Shay, really beautiful.

Jennifer Wagner said...

Powerful. It is saddening and maddening what humans can do out of fear.

K9friend said...

Amazing piece, Shay. Reminds me of the line, "Judge not lest ye be judged".

Pat
Critter Alley