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Prelude to the Nighting Gale

Screams envelop my existence
They tear and shred the weave of which Ive grown
They swallow all my thought and feel
So they may make their shallow world
They are the love stained children of enigma
In which my soul shall convulse and drown

Pain reeks from the hand of our father
Ripping way at  fragile lives
It holds a grip without compare
Upon the hearts of humankind
Takes away from all I trust
And makes me cry, my four walled crib

In this cage I claw and scrape
But fruit of work is left to rot
With bloody nails and curtained night
And holes of which  the nothing lie

Then from these pits the insects birth
So they may bury deep inside

To nest the eggs such of my bane

And gun shots ring within my mind
Their bullets of the brimstone make
Insert themselves within my whole
They slice away my mental strength
So pillars of the stable fall
And insurrection of the shadow starts

My teeth they knaw these ropes that bind
As I find myself held down in drink
Subject to the toxic dream
Allusions of the ecstacy
I am nothing but a gear
Oiled by the liquid loon

I am just a piled flesh
A mound in which the maggots lie
I hold no love 'cause love hates me
For I'm an it  and it must end
So with eyes of red from shattered heart
My lips consume the nighting gale


Take rest my wooden bed is silent


Author notes

I tried a different approach where I wrote the obituary through the eyes of the dead. This way I could write the pain of the deceased to its full extent.

A contest entry

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Comments

1 - 13 of 13

  • snakeprincess742
    January 21

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    its a diffrent style of poem wich i loved its so dark its like what the dead would say if they could speck very good right -hugs- keep up this style


  • Shadow Keeper
    January 8

    Edit | Reply
    Hey, I really liked this poem! It was a very different approach to a subject that many writers write about, but I have never read something quite like this. I liked the way it flowed and the words that you used throughout it, just one small detail, in the first stanza you need the apostrophy in the word "I've". I find spell check doesn't always seem to work, haha! Nice piece though!


  • BlancetNoir gold member
    January 5

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    Wow!

    From beginning to end a powerful, lyrical dark and fresh write, I especially liked...
    I am nothing but a gear
    Oiled by the liquid loon
    ...Classical quality.


  • Danny Beatty gold member
    January 5
    Edit | Reply
    i found this poem to be very interesting and well written, but check your spelling again ... i think oneor two words may be mispelled for ex. ... shadowed not shawdowed or whatever you had ... just an fyi ... nice work, i must say

    thank you for entering this contest


  • Wolfdog silver member
    January 4
    Edit | Reply

    Superb

    Wow, I don't think I could ever have imagined something like this, let alone express such thoughts so clearly. Very well written, indeed.

    • Justin Stone
      January 4
      Edit | Reply
      Do you have any ideas on changes?


      • Wolfdog silver member
        January 4
        Edit | Reply
        I like your phraseology, just as it is. I'm a Senior Citizen, and I feel I can relate to how you've been able to express the pain of living, especially as one's body ages, and slowly starts to fall apart; oft times failing to function as it ought. You see, I live in a Senior Citizen Residential Facility, and two to four times a year, see my friends and acquaintences pass away do to old age.
        Yes, your phraseology is just fine, from my point of view. I noticed two possible typo's:
        first stanza; 4th line - did you mean 'as' instead of 'is'? And shadow instead of shawdow, later on that is.


        • Justin Stone
          January 4
          Edit | Reply
          Im sorry and that is definately the premise of my piece. I have to admit while for a contest I did become emotionally involved to the point where I had strands of hair within my hand and rolling tear upon my cheek. Its not though that I belive in self pity but the recognization of the pain of life that brought me to that emotional state. The poem in know ways involved me but my surrondings.


          • Wolfdog silver member
            January 4

            Edit | Reply
            If this poem in no way involves you or your surroundings, than it makes it all the more amazing that you percieved old age with such clarity. Are your grandparents living nearby, or perhaps with your family?
            There is a very classic poem, that just came to mind, perhaps you have heard of it. It is called "Death Be Not Proud", by John Dunne, I believe.
            Here's an external link to it:

            http://classiclit.about.com/library/bl-etexts/jdonne/bl-jdonne-death.htm


            • Justin Stone
              January 5
              Edit | Reply
              No none of that. I practice an isolation method that works for me. In this poem I used my isolation method to create within my self the inner elder.


              • Wolfdog silver member
                January 6
                Edit | Reply
                Aye, I understand. I sometimes go into a spontaineous meditation when I write some of my poetry. Which, I think could be akin to your 'isolation' method. Again, well done.

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