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Bloodbath, a poem by Jay S Zimmerman

by Jay S Zimmerman

in shade-drawn darkness
you feel your way
the walls smooth, cool

             remembering Sunday mornings
             sitting on the front porch
             chest naked
             she wearing nearly nothing
             watching sunrises
             the color of bellinis

you feel the
oak banisters oiled and
shaped by hands
of ancient Mariners

                    memories of red moon nights
                    sails splitting the shroud of night
                    waves washed the bow
                    to sounds of laughter

now they curve round the ache
of a heart
split into pieces of glass
lying in blood-red splinters

with each agonizing step
you pursue your lover
in betrayals bed
behind the closed door

her moaning mesmerizing
you are stilled
a viper, fangs dripping poison
in silence you slither
violently striking
sheets billowing with
blood and naked limbs

              then only quiet
              your own haunting screams
              washed in blood
              your tears now the chains
              of a dead end

Bio: Jay S Zimmerman came to poetry from his life as a visual artist, composing poems to go with his art, finding as much joy in painting with words as with other visual tools. He has recently been published in Three Line Poetry, I am not a silent poet, and Flying Island. He was born in the concrete caverns of New York, amid the trolley bells and sounds of subways, travelled south to Miami Beach and thrived in the warm sands and salt air dancing to the musical rhythms of Klesmer, Cha Cha and Bossa Nova, finally venturing to the dark soil, flat farmlands and rolling hills of the Midwest where his roots have grown and been nourished for over 40 years. He is an artist, photographer, psychologist, social justice advocate.