Monday, June 16, 2008


Rating: 5.0
The heavy amour rolled through my Poland late last night
Gouging and spurting flesh like mud under its tracks,
Scouring deep welts down my flanks,
Spitting out gristle, guts and gouts of blood
To seep back and fester, black-red and congealing, in the ruts
Whilst the feral me
Convulsed in agony
Transfixed in the cross-hairs
Of the unending lines of Stukas
As they steep-dived their unmistakable dihedrals
At the base of my spine
Pulling out only at the point calculated as most critical to my pain
Dropping their singular back-busters
To explode in my lumbar
And concatenate and concentrate their concussions
Down each leg and back
In some murderous, magnified, sadistic echo.

No defence,
Not even a pain-killing wall was left standing....

....It finished only when they were done with me
When there wasn't much left of me.
Tony Jolley
Yoann Buisson 15 December 2011
Hi Tony, great poem. I wanted to include you poem in a prelude for a phd thesis about sciatica from a brain plasticity point of view and surgery's impact on it. It would be published in print and your name would appear as the author. Please let me know if you like the idea and would like to give me permission? Thanks, Yoann
1 0 Reply
O Anna Niemus 16 June 2008
Your poem was very powerful some ways to reduce sciatica pain chelation, elimination of meat and fish, coffee tea from the diet, since their trioxypurines or dioxypurines leave spurs on the spine which block nerves
1 0 Reply
Raymond Wright 16 June 2008
A horrible, painful image - compact and disturbing... A great poem just the same.
1 0 Reply

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