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Submitted on
June 9, 2009
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Holding Death

I held death today.
It wasn’t so black or dark, it was just
Heavy.

Five chances at it;
Five spurts of dirt snake their way up the embankment.
I feel lightning ricochet through my bones
And thunder cracking, dimly, through the headset, fading off in a little trail,
A wisp of whitish smoke.

My aim is good
But too much awe grips me
Because I have learned the art of taking life.

The scent of clover beneath my feet,
Bees bumbling into my goggles and tiny insects of sweat
Crawl down my spine.
I squeeze my lids shut and suddenly glimpse
A frail gilded hummingbird,
Its beauty matched only by its futile
Frantic beating of wings against air.
Yesterday was my first time at the shooting range - it was really sweet and my aim is actually not too bad. (Must be the video games...)
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:iconsmeebob:
an interesting outlook on death. it's like.. you're becoming desensitized to it. has alot of resonance with war etc, ironically here, you're only shooting targets!
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:iconprofessor-kirby:
Professor-Kirby Jun 24, 2009  Hobbyist Photographer
Yeah, sort of becoming desensitized to it upon becoming familiar with it/understanding its significance.
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:iconzombiegasm:
The last passage is really beautiful.
Something about the usage of words, and the way you describe the insects of sweat, it all felt very eerie. Good job.
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:iconprofessor-kirby:
Professor-Kirby Jun 20, 2009  Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you very much. :)
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:iconnimphaiwe:
Nimphaiwe Jun 12, 2009  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Ooh, I like this a lot.
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:iconprofessor-kirby:
Professor-Kirby Jun 13, 2009  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks! :D
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