SEPTEMBER 11TH

The mind is a twisted skull where maggots lie criss-crossed on a roasted fire.

The brain delved out to be the dinner that the gulls have taken home.

His body lies crushed, mangled like copper wire.

The bulbous nose of a long forgotten Santa

Tell’s the tale of my son on O.B.L’s day.

Now the Patriot’s have flown out to be Giants.

Where will David meet Goliath and who will David be?

Please, surely not the Son Of God.

Turning & twisting, the irony is in the maggot.

Fire came from a sky so high, traffic lights flashed their beady eyes

Grimaced faces drew the sigh, such Hell, Time cried.

The apple shown rotten to the core, from Videos sold in a mart

Virus plagued the curious mind, 42^ND St closed it’s doors.

Fireman stood in blazing red, brothers bathed in blood.

Spiders walked as scorpions knelt.

Towers of spiritual growth washed the backs of solitude green.

Prayers thundered their bellowing rage.

War the curse of a niggling bite, stretched her mouldy hand.

Brass held by stoneless hearts smiled their knowing lie

Kids on the block sent to chill on a desert rock.

Bags rattle as bones talk

Stars & Stripes speak as souls dance with ripped feet.

Smoke makes a shady appearance hidden by a thankless rain

Friends fall foul of a misguided sight, teeth fall as eyes pick beards in the moonlight.

Misery abates on a Saudi well, oil cloaks life’s memory

No pale thought to hear his voice, prayers played by candle fairs

Concrete sets his might in a beam of light

Visitors snap reeling thoughts, sounds sing as vision plays

Maggots lie criss-crossed on the open fire

The irony is in the maggot?

What's that bit mean? Otherwise not a bad poem.

Sorry to the writer but I just don't get it. A load of mumbo jumbo. The event on September 11th was a tradgety almost beyond words, for me that poem did nothing to express the Hell experienced by those directly involved who lost their lives and those who survived and those left behind. Perhaps I just do not get that type of Poetry.