the bell has been rung

someone dear...someone close

rang it right in the middle

of my reverie

not small that
shivering down my back
like a huge nippled gong

placed above my bed
and slammed with a
one hundred pound sledge

my body gripped in the fear
of  an eight point
rolling quake

waiting for the earth
no...praying for the earth
to swallow me and set me free

the echo of the gong
chases the tumble weeds
around my mind

returning over and over
like a ball thumping
inside my soul

I write a word...thump
it will not
set me free

it follows me like
father kicking a young son
in the ass

after a small stupid sin
or a mother
flicking a child's leg

with a willow switch
for not obeying a
parental command

I walk in fear
of the boot or the switch
but the gong

is what echoes
in my mind
vibrating my brain

leaving my fingers
craving for direction
they try a word...

nothing