Thursday last week 02/05/09 , I had a terrible day. It got so bad in fact that I had to take several breaks, and on one occasion had tears of frustration in my eyes. So I did something that I haven’t done in awhile; write poetry as a way to bleed out all the anger I felt.
So I read the poem again this morning and hello, it is kinda creepy. Now I don’t know if it is because it is my own work and I am biased or if it really is a creepy little piece of literature.
My oldest son always tells me that I am gothy and emo in my feelings. I find that funny as I don’t dress or exactly “live” the lifestyle or culture.
But I guess if I have dark periods, love vamps, moody, and listen to so called “emo” music I guess that I am.
But let it be known, I personally don’t call myself these things, only that my son describes me as such. I’d love to see myself in some of the clothing favored by both cultures, but only at Halloween.
But I digress. Here is the poem:
Inflicted
I hear the Harpies sing
an off-key melody,
grating and grinding.
My ears bleed out
thoughts no longer mine.
They cackle in joy,
their triumph over my defeat.
I smell their defilement,
their filth, as they crowd closer,
their warm, fetid breath,
a humid experience.
I can’t move, locked in
utter horror as my eyes
try to lose focus on the
vision around me.
It is not finished, but I like what I got. Is it a masterpiece? Not really. But it was how I felt at the time and now I captured the feeling of a bad day for me, so to speak in a series of words. Comments are always welcome as well as any feedback/critique. But keep in mind if your that person who loves to bash on others just for the fun of it, then your not welcome. Thanks.
