The Terrorist 2012- Prose (The Full Unedited Version)

Before I continue, this piece is for broadminded adults only.

I wrote a piece in February of 2006, wrote a lot of poems and other works during that season. It was good enjoying me and my girlfriend on the beaches of San Francisco, California overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge and I suddenly had this creative vision of what I wrote about. The poem describes in detail what is going on, so I won’t write a spoiler before the read.

I wrote this piece to scare myself, and I hope it scares the Beetlejuice out of you.

This will be a selected piece that will be in the future release of “Forest of Caves II: Deeper Within the Flesh”.

Crystal blue
He sits and watches next to a cliff overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge
And he knows moments from now, the bridge will fall.
He watches the families drive and pass by.
He watches the couples holding hands,
And he sits and waits for the time commanded
It ticks as he reaches down for his cell phone.

Crystal fool,
He knows it is his job to do this,
His family will be well paid and cared for,
While all of those who walk and drive oblivious on that bridge fall.
Fall, BLOWN TO PIECES, Fall
He knows his country will roar in history,
For being the ones responsible for the destruction,
And war will strike for a while,
But his duty is to watch it all go down,
The plastic explosives will clutch tightly like a baby being held.

The timer will tick and time will soon run out.

A group of school children all walk in single file
And holding hands
While the teachers walk and watch,
And all of them will be oblivious to the ticking.

A diesel drives hauling gasoline,
The driver listens to Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” on the radio,
And he doesn’t think about any one,
But his life so far away from home.

His wife will get that phone call a few days later… with a check handed to her,
But it is not her husband…
A man handling a flower to the one he cares for,
The two of them just got married,
The both of them talked of having children,
And spend the rest of their human life together…
Their friends and family will all mourn for the two of them.

A man who cannot take it anymore is walking as well,
But he wants to die, so it won’t bother him so much at all.
He had his own reasons for falling.

A baby without any perception of anything
Will never get to know life,
Will never learn about Rimbaud, Jack London, or even Thoreau,
Or Blake, or Edgar Allen Poe.
Or watch sports,
Or simply learn that possible road that new born could have had,
And this all goes on well, while the ticking suddenly becomes slow.

FIVE…
FOUR…
THREE…
TWO…
ONE…
And you can’t even imagine the thoughts going on
Within those five seconds left
In this terrorists mind.
And the terrorist grabs his cell phone and dials detonation.
…It has been done.

(c) 2012 The Distorted Poet, Michael G. Stone
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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~ by The Distorted Poet on February 23, 2012.

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