Hope

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    Last Hope

    ~

    I lift myself quietly
    very quietly
    from beneath the sheets
    soiled with neglect
    soaked with my nightmares

    I am again awake
    from another dark night
    that began with fear
    fear I might not survive
    and ends in sorrow
    realizing I did

    I rise
    make my way carefully
    past the shallow-breathed crumple
    that lay milky-eyed
    in a heap on the floor
    un-moving
    save a twitch of the head

    a head which now harbors demons
    where nocturnal angels of sweet release
    had lain down lush upon it
    in fevered embrace
    lustfully conjured
    by last night’s spoon and lance
    still skewered silver in the soured vein

    this wreckage is my mother

    I stop but for a glance
    verifying life
    then move on head down
    angle to the bathroom
    to the scum-brown bowl
    to wash my face
    lit sallow by the yellowed bulb
    that hangs bare and lonely

    strange eyes
    hold me in the mirror
    broken as my heart

    eyes of knowing
    eyes of sadness

    grief courses through me
    weighing upon my being
    burning into my heart

    I want to cry out
    but there is no one here to hear me
    no hero that can help me

    driven by instinct to survive
    by urgency to flee
    I shudder away the paralyzing despair

    in this dank food-less morning
    in this ruined single room
    in this coat-less chill of predawn
    I gather up my books
    step lightly through the door
    down the damaged stairs
    into the hostile streets
    heavy with this childhood of strangled dreams

    I duck and dodge
    in and out of shadows
    praying to once again avoid the evil
    that lurks and slinks
    among the garbage and graffiti
    of these crumbled bricken’d canyons

    that rolls slow and lethal
    gripping cold blue steel
    in predatory drive-by

    evil
    seductive as a smile
    deadly as a snake

    evil
    which if diligence should fail
    I fear will consume my soul

    deliberately I continue
    until at last I find my way
    to the building
    to the classroom
    to my teacher
    to my desk

    to the only hope
    to which I dare cling

    ~ ~ ~

    rob kistner © 2011
    (revision © 2019)

    ___________________________

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  • 41 thoughts on “Hope”

    1. wow man…the opening two stanzas set the tone and the grit well…i was heading one direction then another as it was unveiled a teacher…its a hard job. did it for a couple years…

      1. Hi Brian — I actually envisioned this as the inner narrative of an inner-city teen, struggling against great odds, to hold on to the lifeline of education, and what, if any, hope that afforded…

    2. The second stanza encapsulates the tragedy of the situation – the agony of balancing on a line between fear and dread. Sometimes too that one hope has to be kept secret. In this world it’s not cool to be a good student.

    3. wow Rob– this is very powerful– I think you have a good draft here you might add more physical detail to or compress– the image of the addict/mother all crumpled up: that was my reality and I never signed up nor did any of us to have a junkie for a mom. Wow. xxxj

      1. Sorry Jenne’ about your childhood situation with your mother, that you shared here in your comment. That unfortunate memory must remain a lingering ghost, even if grown faint over the years. I also endured the confusion/trauma caused by an unsettled mother.

        I appreciate your thoughts on my piece “Hope”. I’m reasonably fond of it in it’s current state, but it being only a few-day-old penned “expansion” of an older piece I wrote — I must let it mellow some before I can begin to poke at it effectively.

        But please, should you wish Jenne’, feel free to expand or compress this work as you may see fit — I enjoy sharing and seeing the perspective of other writers I respect. Incidentally, I wrote the never-edited compressed “seed” version of this free verse poem 3 years ago, posted in its original form on one of my older inactive blogs — link is here.

        I see from your “About” on your “La Parola Vivace”, that you read and respect Maureen Doallas and Tess Kincaid, two poets/writers with whom I’ve developed an online friendship, and with whom I share a mutual enjoyment of our work. Now, by this visit you made to my blog, I can include your blog of lively words among my regular reading stops. Thank you for visiting my Image and Verse blog, and commenting.

    4. I read and tweeted this yesterday and have come back to re-read. I find this to be, ultimately, a poem of hope, because by the end, the subject has found something to hold onto, to dare to cling to. And, sometimes, daring to take the risk with that one thing can be a lifeline. The remarkable thing is being able to run the course, such as you set out in the poem, and be able able to still find reason to go on.

    5. Brian, thanks for returning. This piece could certainly work if the subject was a teacher, but I tried to clue the reader that I was envisioning a child with the line, “…heavy with this childhood of strangled dreams…”

    6. passionate, strong and powerful images… i do like that he/she makes it to the classroom past the graffiti and filty environment…

      disturbed i am with your sad images, you ended with a positive and hopeful voice…nice one ~

    7. Rob……. completely numbing……. The pain of this young person, the agony of what he is going through….. I couldn’t even imagine that but your words came to life and took me there……. dark places……. Very well done……

    8. The picture you describe is not pretty, but instead the difficulty so many face. It isn’t the dream, so many dreamed of for this country. But who cares? Who cares anyway, when the “wall,” is such a pressing need? Be afraid, be afraid.

      1. Yes annell, we are living in the land of sunshine and lollipops and rainbows… you can believe this if you take enough Wellbutrin and Adderall and Ambien… or whatever poison big pharma wants to push on us to conteract the depression we all suffer because we have lost our ability to care. So many suffer so much, and most people just think – so what! Instead of rallying around a real effort to straighten the mess out in this country, we wnt to spend billions on a wall. INSANITY OF THE HIGHEST DEGREE!!! INCONCEIVABLE… but it is really happening. ????

    9. Rob, wow! The wreckage of a mother, the dismal, impoverished scene, the dangerous streets, and the determination of that child, making his way to school, the one way up and out of such desperation. This is a powerful poem, an important poem, a poem that makes a difference. Thank you so much.

    10. Oh my goodness, your poem has made me cry, Rob. Child neglect and abuse is still rife all over the world. I read horrendous stories every day in British newspapers of children’s lives ruined or cut short by adults. I want to gather them all to me and look after them but I know that it’s not possible. If I did that, I would be the one prosecuted not the perpetrators of their misery. It’s up to the people in power to use their power to provide comfort and care, and help struggling parents before things go wrong..

      1. For the young innocent children in this world Kim, it is the luck of the draw. If a young child, unable to defend themselves, totally dependent on the love and care of an adult, or adults, the grest infant lottery desls you to cruel, miserable sons a’bitches – then poor precious baby, you are screwed – TOTALLY!! And thst is wholly unacceptsble. Only pure luck will save that child – and only a miracle will see that child grow to be a physically and mentally healthy human being. I will admit it, I HATE child abusers. People who abuse children should, in the case of the men, be hung by their balls with piano wire, and the woman who abuse, should be crotch impaled on an operating electric cattle prod. And both of these punishments should be made public. Abusers are slime sub human filth. Nothing in this world is more helpless than a pure child in the hands of a soul twisted pervert! I hate them to the marrow of their bones!! Slime…

    11. Rob, your poem hit on so many truths that I had to deal, as a child growing up, in an abusive/bullied environment. Sadly, I couldn’t fully seek sanctuary, in the schoolyard, as I was often severely bullied here. In the classroom, I did get some relief, but only temporary. The only bright spot is, neither of my parents were alcoholics or drug addictions. Only leaving for university, did my abusive/bullying pattern change, in 1990.

      1. So damned sorry you dealt with bullying. It appears you found strength to do so. Kudos to you my friend. You found the resolve and fortitude! Many don’t. And thankfully you got to university Therisa. For that poor child in my story, it will take a near miracle for him to ever get to university, or even live long enough to reach university sge. And that story I told plays out every day, day affter day, to an estimated 15,000,000 innocent children. Wanna spend some money Trump, there ya go…

    12. And today so read in the Washington Post about child brides being forced to marry older men so the men could sneak into the US. A 13vyear old being forced to marry a 49 year old do his visa could be approved. The abuse and trafficking of children is reprehensible.

      1. We human beings are so capable of acting like monsters. I could not imagine that happening Toni. I am not going on another tirade, but if you read my reply to Kim on this post you will see a more technicolor view of my feelings about those who abuse the innocence and trust of children…

      1. I agree Jim, but the powers that be in our country could care less about poverty. Although they have instituted a major housing plan – privatized prisons. Rather than swearing in, we need to do a wholesale house cleaning of our senators and representatives, and then make EVERY elected position in this country limited to 2-terms. And every appointed position, such as Supreme Court, needs to be an equal number of Repugnantans and Demobrats – and the essential third party when it is established. With that last statement said, we desparately need a third party in our country, with all the benefits granted to it that are granted to the Repugnantans and the Demobrats And everyone voting for state and federal positions gets to vote for two different candidates, their first and second choice. If their first choice doesn’t amass a majority vote, then their second vote is the one counted. Then eliminate the electiral college and make it a true one citizen / one vote system so we could have the true proples choice in our elected offices. Unfortunately, this country IS DEFINITELY going to collapse before we institute these common sense ideas.

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