Guiseppe Montevino

Guiseppe Montevino Poems

The Best Poem Of Guiseppe Montevino

The Precipice

Of the many things that life can be –
And of these that it can be it is all –
Life can be a precipice, lived upon a craggy cliff
Jutting ruefully out over the blazing furnace
That giveth no light. Ensconced in darkness,
This crag is fraught with creeping brambles
That build up and up to the point of overflow
As they wave and writhe in the wisping winds,
Pushing out and out, steadily eliminating the ever riskier path along the heights.
These conniving brambles twist into forms as of mouths,
Their simple pricking thorns converge into a mass of eager teeth,
Joining their collective anguish upon the weary souls
Who wander unwillingly down the heightened trail.

They move as though to lash out,
Striking the weary travelers upon the body,
Leaving marks for all to see. Some recognize the marks
And ignore them in shame, for they too feel the sting.
Others see naught but the strikes of life upon the face
And care little for the bearer. Few know and seem to care,
But how truly can they know the individual’s line?

These brambles grow ever greater, added into a greater multitude
Extending their power across the path,
Seeking to ensnare the trudging souls
And coil their cold coils about the ankles.
So thick grow the brambles that they inject
Themselves in full force across the path.
The soul gives its last to pull aside the weeds
And seek the specks of light visible beyond,
But the specks of light become specks of crimson
As efforts at strength wring only scarlet pain.

In anguish at the thickening brush,
The body falls upon the path,
His lifeless flesh kicking up a bit of dust that coats his being.
There the dust remains for this body moves no more.
The thicket pushes on its steady advance,
Thick with ravenous points. They lick
And nibble at the body, eking out its lifeblood,
Which now oozes freely with naught give to stop it.
With the body’s will drained, the brambles seek their final goal.
This heavy mass shoves the body off the precipice
Careening into the blazing furnace where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

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