Saturday, December 6, 2014

henry 7. reneau, jr.- Three Poems

for shannon harney

1.when i hold you
terror bleats,
fear stalks the mind
the caged heart screams.


thinking back
on my passion,
i was like one blind,
unafraid of the dark.


human hearts
like deep, dark water,
the perfect hiding place.


to love another person,
to literally
become one with them,
is to kill them,
eat them
& inhale their ashes.


fallen in love, i fall/fall/fall,
an anchor,
in concrete shoes.


love’s weight suffocates.

blanket-stash red, white & blues

. . . the errand boy sent by grocery clerks
to collect the bill.
                                  —“Apocalypse Now” 

flies amassed
about the enemy’s spilled guts
come & see, the pale green horse
rocket apogee of death
& the high angle of hell
hath followed with him
who once believed Amerikkka
was God & country
worth dying for, but
from where he now
it stinks of expendable &
mechanical police-goon threats
parroting “quality of life” commands:
don’t be here when we come back!

escaped unscathed
from the rabid mouth of madness
defined: complicit in
pre-emptive war &
come home to
demon winter frost
grips the homeless vet by the throat
after two tours fighting terrorism &
taught to believe
what he was ordered to believe
fighting for “freedom & democracy”

returned the traumatized  hero
defined: not economically viable
sing-song mumbled 
the homeless vet
a cardboard sign in hand: will kill
for loose change
for work, a roof overhead
a malt liquor “forty” to forget—
a cigarette

his once patriotic dogma
enacting massacres in our name
a warrior mind animated
by exploding ghosts
of the foreign horde:
men, women &
the children—their faces
shredded to collateral damage
the innocent
always the least able
to dive for cover 
when drones co-sign propaganda
as national security &
his remorse in denial
like once welcoming doors slamming
& his heart-stutter PTSD
as all of a sudden as vipers
war-makers & profiteers
like instinctive murder
that has a voice
a blood-stained, metallic-copper
after promises
that have not been kept
after honor bought &
paid for
with Amerikkkan tax dollars
one ragtag nation under God
now turned to slow suicide &
we bury the dead alive
in Salvation Army soup lines &
rain-soaked cardboard boxes


hannibal lecter convinces her
to swallow her tongue to death

Nevada County Sheriff’s Office—08.20.14
10:17pm—A caller from the 12000 block of Old
Wood Road reported a woman screaming for
10 minutes.

not the flower but the thorn
puncturing holes in her radiance

the nonexistent
voices of manipulation & coercion

perceived as solid matter
but only empty space

the menace of thunder

that ricochets across
a mottled sterling-gray cellulite sky

the invisible telepathic rabbit
inside a glossy white paper frame around her

like a Polaroid
disconnecting her from the world

as if by disfigurement
she could not circumnavigate

she only stopped screaming
when she used the butcher knife

to cut the screaming rabbit’s throat

henry 7. reneau, jr. writes words in fire to wake the world ablaze: free verse illuminated by courage that empathizes with all the awful moments, launching a freight train warning that blazes from the heart, like a chambered bullet exploding inadvertently. His poetry collection, freedomland blues (Transcendent Zero Press, 2014), was released in September of 2014. He also has an upcoming e-chapbook, entitled physiography of the fittest (Kind of a Hurricane Press), to be released in 2014.             now,      runantellyomamaboutdat!!

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