Culloden Kerfuffle by Sy Roth

 

 

Each to their own space,
With little Room to dodge and weave,

Hostile venom spills from her
It meanders like a deadly serpent
Hot magma wending its way down the slopes
A wrath cascading
Wriggling upward from a cavernous abyss.

The echoes of a breach miscarry
To die an echolalic demise,
Barely reaching the rim
To expire there on the ground in boiling gushes
Soiled earth leaving an ancient relic of enmity,
A mere scrap poking from its primordial muck.

He stands there, Lot’s wife,
A frozen pillar,
Caught in the storm of an irrational kerfuffle
Voiding his power of speech,
His smile set in a rictus of defeat.

Drumbeats of loss fade on his battlefield
Like Scots in full charge,
Blue berserkers shredded by Anglo guns
He endured, a Culloden failure
Home and glory-muzzled
While the Bonnie Prince waddled is mead like dreams.

All bloodied by her shrieks
Only his heartbeats,
Remnant of his humanity
Cascade in atonal rhythms, a sad melody,
Threnody in his ears
Drowns the verbiage.

Ultimately, he lays down
With the silenced chargers–
Surrounded by the stillness
Cherished by the others
Bairns swaddled in their victorious songs.
Her caterwauling driven to the darkest corners
With lone sprites serving a hungry god
Standing guard ready for the kerfuffles to be.

©2019 Sy Roth

 

Follow Sy:

Sy Roth is a retired school administrator and has finally found the sounds of silence and the time to think whole thoughts. This has led him to find words and the ability to shape them. He has published in Visceral Uterus, Amulet, BlogNostics, Every Day Poets, Barefoot Review, Haggard and Halloo, Misfits Miscellany, Mad Swirl, Larks Fiction Magazine, Danse Macabre, Bitchin’ Kitch, Bong is Bard, Humber Pie, Poetry Super Highway, Penwood Review, Masque Publications, Foliate Oak, Miller’s Pond Poetry and The Eloquent Atheist.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.