Too Fast

April 26, 2012
By StarryRoss GOLD, Albuquerque, New Mexico
StarryRoss GOLD, Albuquerque, New Mexico
19 articles 0 photos 30 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Writing is the socially acceptable form of schizophrenia." -E.L. Doctorow


The great and mighty, plains of all. In the orange, carved rock, whirl the dustbowl
Sheets of sand, sediment. She wants the color, fades to gray
It was night once, it once was a gentleman
The dark cape, coated in film a deep dirt cloak
What was in there, what did he come to do with me, in the case
But he comes too fast

The light is, the darkness leaves, but clouds roll in, fast
Trapped in the scraped, bottom of the dustbowl
Now is it me? Subject to this torture? My eyes are under the cloak
All I ever wanted was him. The way he touches me, a gentleman
It descends farther down than I could’ve ever imagined, my consciousness that is, gray
Quite a curious case

They call it brief, nothing brief about it, nothing in this case
The tools and liquids in neat little vials, open fast
Carrying the burden of the air; crows whirl in the dustbowl
Now it is my entire being – under this, cloak
My mother could’ve only hoped it would be a gentleman
Why must I trudge through and what is good is light that’s gray

Red and yellow, no match for gray
Passion and bitterness secede to small within this case
It all comes too fast
Circling in this place, get me out of the dustbowl
Dirtied, I feel, everyone can stare beyond my cloak
In no way was he a gentleman

Men of honor, they so often say, but what does it mean to be a gentleman?
Sterile needles for prodding my conscious, my morals fade to gray
Every day in this way is a dustbowl
The sand buries in too fast
I did it because I had to, now I’m labeled nut case
I wish I were Harry Potter, steal the invisible cloak

The word describes the dark deep sheet I was buried under: cloak
No one said he was a gentleman
Reputations are disintegrated, though accusations are still gray
Only I knew since day 1, what a hopeless case
It just came too fast
On my hands and knees, praying to leave the dustbowl

Here in this dustbowl , keep me save, under your cloak
The details meld gray and of course I think a gentleman
Since the initial hour, it was a lost case, and it just came too fast


The author's comments:
This is my first sestina; at first i had no idea what i was writing about, but now that i understand it, i wanna know your thoughts and impressions. What do you think its about?

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.



SciArc

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!