the hungry and the dead.
they fed on the same lies,
eyes going out in fading awareness.
the hungry and the dead.
things left unsaid become
yet more stale and mouldy crusts of distrust.
nobody wants to die hungry
in the street, in defeat,
forgetting all the sweet
things that once were in reach.
the hungry and the dead.
in the lunchroom. in the bed.
nothing but threadbare tablecloths
spread over the tombs of injustice.
the hungry and the dead.
they fed on the same lies,
eyes going out in fading awareness.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
lyric: the hungry and the dead
Labels: 2009, protest 4 observations
4 observations:
Very powerful! What inspires you?
Wonderful!
Sometimes it isn't so much what inspires me as what comes to me. Much of my material is written from the preconcious and only later do I perceive what I was writing about. In this case, I believe, it is an examination of life and passion, and the notion that those without passion are starving to death.
Inspiration is everywhere. One of the best poems I ever wrote was to a woman I saw for five minutes, sitting in a hallway at Oglebay Hall at West Virginia University, in a blue denim skirt, eating from a bag of cinnamon red hots candies (the kind with the shell over the chewy center). The image evoked, provoked and invoked a word, a sound, that grew like kudzu on an old tree and reached for the sun, my consciousness. Anything can inspire, although generally my inspirations are women or my emotions towards women (depending on how they are treating me in that moment). Add to that a photographic memory for emotional states and a decent vocabulary...
Post a Comment