Monday, January 25, 2016

Two Poems by Christopher S. Knodel


The Coma

Months in a coma,
ended for him suddenly
--without an explanation.

His eyes opened wide,
to see a sterile white room
--a place he had never been.

A doctor rushed in
to see his patient awake
--an unexpected event.

He had been broken.
Many organs had ruptured.
--all damage had been severe.

What, then, had happened?
How had he come to be here?
--where were the answers he sought?

The doctor approached,
and injected a serum
--directly into his neck.

The patient expired,
as the doctor unfolded
the "Do Not Resuscitate."



A Crimson Silence

He heard the silenced shots.
Dull, moist impacts echoed through the silence.
To his right, his wife collapsed, as if made of melting wax.
To his front, crimson sprayed from his daughter's blond locks.

Then, receding footsteps.
Silence.
Emptiness.

He was alone, with nothing but the cooling bodies
of everyone he ever loved.



Christopher S. Knodel is an author, poet and ultra-distance runner in San Antonio, TX.  He is a freelance journalist and writes a weekly syndicated newspaper column.  His poetry and short fiction have been featured in The Asses of Parnassus, Ealain (MPA Publishing), The Wolfian, The Write Place at the Write Time, The Zodiac Review and Zombie Logic Review.  He can be easily spotted by his kilt, tattoos and six inch, flaming-red, Van Dyke goatee.

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