by Lehmy L. Mweleh

Unthudded tweak
an eyelet-like
blobbed out lot
straight from
some mute throat,
then, a few dots
another poke's
The shot'd carved
out a tiny hole,
 hardly seen iris
crozed deep in the heart
of our shoal,
bare grit full in the heart
of our soul.
We long feared
their over-brooded
would come about
sooner or later,
We knowingly stood
it would come about
by the daylight
rather than anight.
Our latecoming fear'd
somehow hastened
the blow's wilful outcome
tho' seemingly
neither early not late
it did strike us
in the middle of that spring
which made us devote
all our spared time
to having too quizzical
too idling
look at each other,
lost numb survivors.
Some time after the blow
a couple of
hooting droning spooks
would keep
their dreadfully ogling eyes
on us
getting us almost nound,
quite flat aground.
Now the blast has blown
out throbbing heart up,
we'd again call ourselves
dumb numb survivors
dead alive bodies
sort of living
far-more-than-jut afraid
rather stark-appalled
and caught
blank-headed wondering
who will be the next target
who will be felled down
by the next-coming
The shot did impel
such minute
a dot,
up to widest loss
for loosened wobbling
the shot had expelled
the squeezing plot
that further shattered
out wholeness
by then far shattered.


Blasting by Lehmy L. Mweleh

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