I look over the growing crowd
Slack jawed drones wonder of my absence
Opulent silence breaks, as they look on with sour stares
The men who once cheered me and the women I bedded
now recoil in wonderment disgust
I still own them all, sixty months past
The contorted looks match not the glimmer in their eyes
They listen, hanging on my first word yet unspoken
In the presence of the crowd my senses greet me
The stench I wear, I quit noticing long ago
It now comes to me amidst my vomit laced dream
With coal in a crabbed hand grip
Scratching numbers on the wall, a warning to all
The mummers begin
Deciphering my code, the idiots they try
Graven voice meets my cracked dry lips
They hush, as I laugh inside
"Forgive me for being gone.
I have fallen upon myself."
These people I see,they are already dead.
A contest entry
- Round #5762 - Oration of the Mad Prophet!!!!! by Great Cthulhu.
525 points, ended May 17, 2008, 6 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A dark vision...
Well done! Excellent take on the prompt. This is my favorite line, nice image - "They listen, hanging on my first word yet unspoken" I enjoyed your antiquated vocabulary. Keep your pen to the page and thanks for entering!
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Strange but I read the last line as 'These people they see, I am already dead'. Not sure why but it put an interesting twist on it. Yes I like the atmosphere you conjure up, very grim.
Peace Georgia
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Damn, dude! I thought that I'd just waltz in here and steal the show without much effort. Then, I saw this and went for another drink. It's gonna take a true quill to best this fine art of yours...
Mummers, eh? Wow!!
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Lord Sour Mash! What a bender
This is funny and crazy and weird. Quite an ego he has hasn't he? Ominous undertones and good rhythm. Best wishes in the comp.
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