Poetry
Robert L. Jackson III
1946She licks the wounds, I spit the blood because the exchange in between is what spread and healed a desired disease. Once the meat seemed so taunt on tendons, but now lies limp, draining its seductive life onto an arid ground. The pride settles, watching royalty pass them by, and bless them with the right to remain common. They have no gatherers of wheat or fruit, only hunters of the swarming herds trampling the displaced. If only she had planned, and nature had lead them and I was a different breed. No More MortarIt was raining in Charleston and a statue stood outside our window; above the trees, above the puddles, but not above the tarnish. Even from a static presence he guides a concrete filled battery across to the crumbled fort. The past stood outside, belonging somewhere else, somewhere close, perhaps the misty cemetery. Robert L. Jackson III, an Atlanta based poet, has been published in variety of literary magazines. He has also recently published a book entitled, 'Shedding Layers of Ocean,' which is available online. His poetry reflects a belief in a fluctuating relationship between humans and nature. His poetry is also introspective and so reveals the closely related harshness and beauty of the world. Visit his website for more at www.saltlines.com. |