Houses made of stone
Fall in bits of themselves
on glass people passing by

we’re all a little cracked,
decked in spider-web designs
and we keep on walking

thinking will hold us together,
but what happens if we fall apart?
When our cracks deepen and spread?

The houses keep falling apart
bit by bit by bit, throwing themselves over us
burying our shattered remains

The pile of stones
breaking off the houses
grows and grows until the houses become naked

They stripped themselves bare of their protective covers
and now we stand
in vulnerable nakedness

cowering under the shadow
of the mountain of stones they created
I wonder when it will swallow me down

On top of them,
burying me with the people
they had recklessly destroyed, smothering me

with their own regrets
and mistakes crushing
me under the weight of the damage they had caused.


actions are boomerangs
what we do
what we say
always finds its way back home.


Poetry by Ashe
Read 365 times
Written on 2016-12-16 at 04:07

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the entire poem reads like a wonderful overture to the crescendo that is the last stanza I love it.

Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Your images bore themselves inside me and I feel them so intensely. Repercussions clang and bang and sometimes are very silent as they destroy all in their path. Painfully and powerfully affective, Ashe.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
i'm sure you didn't intend this, but as i read i was seeing images of Aleppo.

i also saw an Aleppo of ourselves, the danger we reap by our crumbling self. i didn't know where you were going with this, how it would end. the title should have told me. it ends with us. actions have consequences, ours and others.

the sense of being buried, smothered, is strong. this is a graphic depiction of a state of mind.

Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
The stone and glass house analogy is a good one. This is all about karma I think. It has the feeling of a bad dream. Perfectly expressed though. Hugs.