a spiders hairy legs
the comb you forgot you left under your bed
covered in tar
yesterday morning's coffee filter
barbie's toilet brush
the holed paddle of a canoe.
tall tree branches without leaves
the potted plant in the corner nobody water
the pricks of your grandfather's bead
this is a trip to the ER
for a stye, pink eye, no eye
this is friendship and fear
I was sitting in Bromley, with proper afternoon tea
In my cozy breakfast nook
Until the floorboards clattered, and my fairy tale shattered
When the ground rumbled and shook.
2. Deprivating Descent
The fragile floor crumbled beneath my quivering feet, and
The earth opened its gaping mouth wide to swallow me.
I opened mine to release a terrified scream,
Not managing to free even air.
My heart rose into my straining throat
Gagging the dooming descent.
Helpless bodies sense nothing-
Neither pitch black
Nor blinding light,
Neither dead cold
Nor Hell hot.
A paralyzing plummet:
3. Deathly Paralysis
Awake... I'm buried alive:
Eyes only perceiving a dingy gray.
Thrashing and wailing-futile.
Breath short-ever quickening.
Heart pounding-strobing flashes.
A shadowy hand reaches
Shaking my body to wake.
I frantically explode out from my grave.
Then freeze a moment in eerie silence:
Ash flutters all around like wintry snow
Settling gently on hallow ground below.
4. Reflections in the Mist
My attention-stolen: utterly enveloped
In a signt most forboding
A daunting dwelling sits silently-
Ominous in the dry mist of ashes.
At first glance, the giant house levitates-
Gray-As is above, so is below,
An island stuck in perpetual dusk,
Floating in a sea of utter nothingness,
A container for the empty,
A furnace of torment-
Spewing plumes of dun from its chimney.
5.Ascention to Hell
The door snaps shut behind me
With a sharp echoing CRACK,
My head snaps swiftly around
Over my tingling back.
My fumbling feet stumble as
Frantic fingers search for light.
Finally finding a switch...
With a frightening jolt, I feel myself rise.
I slowly grab the suspicious candlestick.
With nowhere else to run or turn back,
Regretably this is the path I must take.
6. The Devil's Playground
My tour begins in a room of blood red-
A spindly figure writhes on the bed.
Sprawled out, wretching black bile over the side,
A mask of lust painted over her eyes.
At the foot of the bed on a cushiony stump,
With spillover flab sits a voluptuous lump.
Unflinching, slicing from her own fleshy pie,
Consuming the mess of her gluttenous stye.
A mini moaning figure limply crawls-its swollen belly, dragging
Puts a grotesque chunk to its starving lips-hunger is always nagging
A faceless man in a suit of black steals-from its greedy little hands
Not just takes, he compulsivly demands.
A ripping roar fills the room-a wild creature crying in disgust,
And claws ferociously at the faceless man in the suit as she must.
Thirsty for blood of the scum of the earth,
The furious beast vengefully pounces...
Intercepted by the mans protector,
Bullets deployed by an unnamed soldier-
A star seared over the meat of his heart,
Which he pledged away with pride from the start.
Holding a mirror, a huge mass sits
Indifferently stitching its own bloody lips.
A slumbering giant-its power is great
Yet quietly accepting everyone's fate.
A vibrantly white glowing man enters:
Madness becomes reverance in an instant.
Using the soldier of pride as his teeth,
Hiding behind the man of endless greed,
Stepping over the fallen beast of wrath,
Feeding the gluttonous lump on his path,
Condemning lust with all types of love too,
Ordering the giant sloth: "Continue!"
Lifting his unblemished hand to my face,
I understand who owns this hellish place.
On his command, attention shifts to me.
A mob of tortured souls- one entity.
Sets of dark hollow eyes penetrate
Petrifying me where I stand-must...escape!
Aware of horrors' hot breath in my face,
I recognize my worst fears fruitioned.
Breaking their gaze, I leap for my freedom-
Window shattering, I feel every shard.
7. Reality Confusion
Shadows of nightmares
Lingering in my mind's eye
I met a traveller on the road.....................Chin in hand, a heavy load..........He sat before me on a grave....A man in though of the brave.......................... And slowly passing, by his side, I felt him crying for those who died...................And looking down I saw a name, Him, my father was his name...............Stepping on a crooked stye, I overlooked the bluest sky...............Old men travel, down the roads.........Each burden him, to each his load!
I met a traveller on the road, Chin in hand............a heavy load........ He sat before me.........on a grave A man in thoughtful......of the brave! And slowly passing, by his side I felt him crying, for those who died And looking down. I saw his name Him, my father, was his name Stepping on, a crocked stye....... I overlooked the bluest sky............ Auld men travel down the roads Each burden him..............A heavy load.
Trite query from pen so weary
My muse has blown a fuse
The light that once shined has declined
My fleeting hope hangs from a rope
A vagabond whose muse did abscond
With illuminating spark leaving him in the dark
Out on a lark; my scuttled engine in park
Night and day I recon the lexicon
But the literary discourse is no recourse
To a stray itinerate who has lost his way
The stye in my eye has begun to cry
The pus is no fuss; my page is dry
A rhyme for a dime would be sublime
Perhaps, a bartered verse in my purse
Will break the curse, or still worse
Might stain with shame my languishing pain
Incarcerating my fraudulent pen in the critic's den
Oh, if words would rain then my brain drain
Would filter inspiration to my perspiration
The fertile strain if only but a grain
Would fertile sprouts shoot extinguishing my doubts