Tuesday, January 26, 2010

resurrectionist

a sudden fall of silence so deep it cracks with the cold of it

the passing of an instant, in which the accepted procession of things spins on its heels, and the life that seemed to lead on moment through moment drops down, lies flat, and everything happens at once

the blue-lipped girl on the bathroom floor coughs, sits up, and propped on her arms, stares at the mottled legs stretched out in front of her

the dead cat curled on the chest of the dead woman arches back from its front paws, rocks its head back and begins licking its white fur bib, and the woman opens her eyes, reaches both hands up and around from her sides, and scritches the fur between its ears

the smashed man in the smashed van pushes himself back from the steering wheel and, finding his legs, steps out into the road, places his fists in the small of his back and leans in to a stretch as the motorway rushes past

the decayed man by the fence in the field rights himself into a kneeling position, then sits studying those hands in his lap like a man surprised at prayer, as the crows scrawk and fret high in the elms above him

the bloated man on the sofa rolls off sideways onto the floor and stops there, panting, all fours founded, the flat ribbed dog in the corner sneezing once and sitting up to watch him

the dead man in the pub toilet reaches a hand up to feel the wall, slaps the wall, shucks off a walking boot

the dead woman on the red cotton undersheet yawns, licks her cracked lips, pats the bedside table for teeth

the man under the tree in the park sits up and stares ahead at the shadows gliding noiselessly along the pavement

the bloody woman in the bath raises her head up from her chest, and begins to pick the wet strands from her face so she can watch the door

and transport arrives, figures of green and black

and Time through them all, leaning in with light fingers, unzipping the dead to the very atom, scattering what has gone, and passing on

and everything changes

and nothing does

24 comments:

Anonymous said...

Wow, that's powerful, what moving images you convey.

Thank you

Christine

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, real art from a real artist.

Ninjamedic said...

This is brilliant, Spence.

Spence Kennedy said...

Christine, Anon & Ninjamedic - Thanks v much for the comments!

I was thinking lately that I wanted to experiment with different ways of putting some of these scenes across. I'm really pleased you like it! :)

Helen said...

yet again you leave me unable to come up with the words to express how moved I am by your writing. amazing stuff.

Helen

Spence Kennedy said...

Thanks v much H - for your comments and support, and for coming back to visit the blog all this time! x

medic999 said...

I wonder if you ever get sick of me and everyone else telling you what an amazing writer you are?........

No?

Okay then....

I finish reading and yet again, whilst in the dark office on station, in my recliner at 03:00 in the morning, say out loud for nobody to hear...

Wow!!!

rheumablog said...

Images

Arresting, thought-provoking, rhythmic, surprising.

I love

The poetry that plays in prose.

-Wren

Spence Kennedy said...

Thanks Mark

No - it's always great to hear from you! (Although I'm sure people must think I just have loads of different aliases...) I'm really glad you liked this piece. I was a bit worried it wouldn't go down so well.

Hey Wren
Thanks v much for that. It is good to cut loose and write something even denser than usual, rather than the 'facts' of each case. Like I say, I do want to play around with the format a bit more. So thanks for the encouragement.

I have started another blog to experiment with stuff that's not so driven by the ambulance (pardon the pun). You'll find it on the profile section - not much there yet, but I'll try flipping between the two.

Hope you're well

SK x

RapidResponseDoc said...

Just excellent writing

uphilldowndale said...

Wooooooooooooow..... not a lot more I can say. Just Woooooooooooooooow!!

Spence Kennedy said...

Thanks for being so lovely and encouraging, RRD & UHDD. :)

Michael Morse said...

Simply great, Spence. So well done I had to link to my blog, hope you don't mind.

It's great to see some of my favorites who commented here share my sentiments!

Rach said...

Just brilliant Spence and I will never get fed up of saying that to you..xx

Mike "FossilMedic" Ward said...

Wow, I feel the impact of your images.

Mike

Walt Trachim said...

Wow.... Awesome... NM said it: this is brilliant.

Katharine said...

Wonderful stuff Spence.

Spence Kennedy said...

Hey Mike!
Thanks for the name check! I owe you big time.

Rach, MW, WT, K - Thanks v much!

I was reading all your comments with a fairy cake in my hand (it's J's birthday - 5 years old - party tomorrow - excellent). Don't know which was more delicious! Rest assured if you were all here you'd all get a cake. (But as you're not, I might just have to have another one - in your honour...) xx

Jean said...

Guided here by Michael M.

I read this two ways... one, as zombies rising... two, as souls awakening.
Eerie, fascinating, engrossing.

Hope you don't mind if I come back.

Gia's Spot said...

Once again I stand in AWE!!

Spence Kennedy said...

Thanks Jean - and yes, you'll always be more than welcome!

I always liked a painting by Stanley Spencer about the resurrection - loads of people rising from their graves in Cookham. It's a fantastic, epic piece of art (I think it's in the National Gallery). Thanks again for your comment.

Hey Gia!
Thanks v much!
Hope you're well and everything's good with you. x

Terri said...

What can I say that hasn't already been said by others?

Prophetic, poetic and profound!

I try and stay away from your blog, but I am a moth to your flame of genius.

Thankyou xx

Chimera said...

Yes, I concur. Just powerful, beautiful, ghastly and so so moving Spence.
You rock .
Tanvi x

Spence Kennedy said...

Hey Terri
Wow! Thanks! (Although I think I'm probably less like a flame of genius and more like a campinggaz cooker of aspiration...) x

Hi Tanvi
Thanks! 'Beautiful' and 'ghastly'. That reminds me of that poem by Auden where he talks about an 'expensive, delicate ship' - two adjectives that sit uneasily together, but say so much. x