The froth lifts our fishing boat's stern to a canopy of charcoal clouds, its bow dipping into a Stygian wedge.
The sails tilt into each other, the fissure between them the famished tempest's lopsided palate.
Ten little disciples, we fight for our lives.
One clings to the cedar planks fastened together with mortise pegs and tenon tendons, spewing puke into the pelagic.
Only two stay serene.
The Lord, calling to the Saxe smudge He summons
And the artist, peeking through the weft threads, the very threads in our vessel's ripped pinions, at the audience
At you
And he says,
O YE OF LITTLE FAITH
WHY DO YOU GRASP AT THE MAST
IF HE WILL NOT WAKE
LET GO OF THE LINES
KEEP YOUR BROTHER IN YOUR EMBRACE
About the Creator
Wen Xiaosheng
I'm a mad scientist - I mean, film critic and aspiring author who enjoys experimenting with multiple genres. If a vial of villains, a pinch of psychology, and a sprinkle of social commentary sound like your cup of tea, give me a shot.
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More stories from Wen Xiaosheng and writers in Poets and other communities.
Standing While Falling
Quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche "He who wrestles long with monsters should beware lest he himself become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. Man is not destroyed by suffering, but by the meaning he makes of it."
By LUCCIAN LAYTH5 days ago in Critique
Comments (3)
Rembrandt van Rijn, 1633
Whoaaaa, this was so intense! I loved it!
The language here is so rich and descriptive. It really pulls you into the scene and keeps you reading til the very end. Great pome!!