Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
(no matter extreme global
     warming more dire,
then cursing me smoldering
     infernal languishing spitfire.)

Shade did adolescent
     facade drifts asunder
asper...a major emotional blunder
shielding sensitive myopic eyes
     against  quashed
     then young life, never
     ordinarily gathering rose buds,
    now I always wonder.

No, never so much
     as a feeble arc
unable to issue even a light bark
unresponsive as a
     cold bunsen burner,
nor can Clark
Kent marshal superman,
     thus vital willpower

     bleak and dark
within thine body electric
     as mine life
     journey doth embark
completing protracted orbit
whar raging self against time
     strikes into metaphorical abysmal pit

continuing charade of
     existence or quit
before chronological demise
     decrees death to be writ
once flickering enthusiastic
     willpower to be alive
snuffed livingsocial esprit de corps
     elan forcibly crushed,

     sans kamikaze nose dive,
when psychological arc
     tangentially crossed figurative bee hive
aswarm with countless
     invisible poisonous stingers
     pierced late mine boyhood
asper razor sharp cutting knives

     brandished by figures
     shrouded within dark hood
whar bent gnarled fingers
     grabbed and wood

not let go stranglehold
of thine curse canst atone
weak prepubescent unlovely skeletal bone
sinister voices still faintly heard,
     within me noggin drone
like angry thundering birds
     as anorexic starved

     flesh didst groan,
now that fragile adolescent
     boy within me revisits
     haunting this middle aged
     married man, whose moan
more nsync with countless
     stifled mailer daemons
     entombed akin to rigor mortis,

     viz complex Oedipus prone
a wander lost young lad,
     who left every mouldering stone
unturned - fearing unleashing
     def finning tone

     even to this very dusky moment
     of my ****** charade
fresh with painted fore
     sight groping blindly
     within outer limits
     of the twilight zone.
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
115
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems