HELL ON EARTH? by David Erdos

 

HELL ON EARTH?

Like a form of hell here on Earth the climate conspires against us.

Heat heaves and hounds us before forcing us all into place.

The sick and suffering sit as if immune to all pleasures,

As breath itself becomes bartered, twisting temperature

Towards terror, while fast boiling blood tests the cauldron

Of the faltering flesh and masked face. If I sought the air

I might die, with my wasted breath bound by deception.

For what the mask achieves,as with rumour, has precious little

To do with our health. And what else remains in a week

With sun marked flames sent to scorch us, other than

To risk the shattered sky's sparked surrender, as it weeps

For pity and relief from the heat. An hour's rain cried

Last night, as if God were speared. Now it's vapoured.

And in today's heat ray spreading we may as well be Wells'

Martians, lasered and blazed in defeat. It is the strangest

Turn of events  when your enemy is prized weather,

And the previous holidays we once treasured are haunting

Us now through daylight. Ghosts of past lives, in which

We sit stuck to our deck chairs, while the lost pursuits

In imagination run rampant, while we pray with true

Passion for death's brief reprieve in the night.

I fight for purpose and health and to be free of wanting

To eat. Food breeds fever. Like a lolling dog I seek shadow,

And stare forlornly up through the glare to either

An ignorant God or a suitably beligerant one, struck

By starlight, contending with his own swollen novas

And a comet's command to beware. Sky scars appear

Here on earth as I am fighting the force that now holds me.

Wanting cool air more than loving, if the Devil came

Now to soothe me ahead of an angel I am not convinced

I'd resist him, or, even in faith or not, have the strength.

I dream of a cold sea in my house now that Covidian 

Legislation forbids it.  In short, I dream of drowning

And the cold and chilling kiss of death's length.

Somebody please save me soon. I ask a weather Angel

I know to inform me. She tells me that Saturday brings

Salvation. It is Wednesday today.  My heart fries.

And If your heart fries, then your soul and intemperate skin

Start to simmer.  Send me your kiss. Suck. Succeed me.

Blow back into me Some fresh life. Anyone, please.

I am turning to steam. Love's a fire. Find me too late

I'll have risen, like air Itself into aether, or the withdrawal

Of hope from closed eyes. For heat like this is a curse.

Heat of this sort is contagion. What else will ride now

Between us as our lost belief bubbles? Perhaps, future

Water will form from the ghosts in the air sweat describes.

As my back bursts into flame I think of a woman I held once

In winter. Her beautiful face was my fire, the source of all

Warmth, for all time. There is a moment's breeze as I type

To touch the memory in that sentence. But then it withdraws

And I swelter.  For what Saturday brings pain may find.

I sit and wait. Somewhere else, I call them to summon rain

From the mountain. Here in the flats and valleys

Let the flood calls come. Float, then rise. I feel myself

Become my own meal, as kidneys are cooked beside

Liver. The heart is last. Oil is flowing. And yet I resist

This strange oven, while between the surface

And sweat souls divide. 

David Erdos August 12th 2020

For more poems from David Erdos visit The Corona Diaries collection 

David Erdos is an actor, writer, director with over 300 professional credits. He is a published poet, playwright, essayist and illustrator. He has lectured on all disciplines in theatre and film for leading performing arts colleges, schools and universities around the world. His books include EASY VERSES FOR DIFFICULT TIMES, THE SCAR ON THE CLOUD, OIL ON SILVER, NEWS FROM MARS, CHANGING PLACES WITH LIGHT (penniless press) and BYZANTIUM with the photographer Max Reeves. He is a contributing editor for The International Times and maker of documentaries all over the world. David’s work has been acclaimed by many leading figures including Harold Pinter, Heathcote Williams, Alan Moore, Andrew Kotting, Chris Petit and Iain Sinclair in whose recent book THE LAST LONDON, David features. He can be reached at David.erdos@sky.com.

David Erdos

©    David Erdos has asserted his moral rights as author of his work and has full copyright.