Tag Archives: apocalypse

Here we are at the end of the world

Clouds gape and roar, thundering their pain
Fetid air blows from an oven door hot against faces
Heat dries eyeballs ears ring skin crawls
Hindbrain processes new and unknown into old fears
Crowded and herded by noise we look up
At the thing that is bursting through the atmosphere
Monstrous geometries writhing
Forcing and burning its path to us
Pushing our breath away
Blinding and deafening
Pushing us down until we prostrate on the mud
Afraid to look up as they look down
Death is upon us

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

(A Science Fiction poem first blogged in October 2015, now re-written)

Lava Tunnel

Lava Tunnel

In a simple field, no different from any other
Is a clump of small trees with a dark secret
Amongst their roots, we tiptoe down a rocky slope
Into blackness.
Torchlight reveals a dry tunnel, strange shelf on the walls
Chattering, we walk until daylight is extinguished by distance
We stop, simmer to quietude, and turn off the torches
Into silence
Liquid rock once ran where we now stand in black silence
The rock around us the scum that floated on that river
The apocalypse that created our tunnel has disappeared
Into history

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Once more, re-blogged from last year…