The stove top clock reads 10:03,
a lonesome Saturday night
is forcibly enduced with popped corn,
and tear jerking rentals.
I move from my soft dent in the couch
to press 'PLAY',
Than almost immediately 'FF'.
Soundless chipmunk like humans
flock over the screen,
for a second or two.
Then 'STOP',
and 'PLAY' again.
Alone with my indulgences,
and one way conversation with the T.V.
Halfway through the ten o'clock hour,
in walks father with a tisk between his lips.
As my life indirectly flops out of the movie.
I feel my cheeks burn as hot coals,
and I tilt my chin,
admiring the overcleanly ivory carpet,
and avoiding my embarrasment.
"Teenagers these days..."
He grunts below his furrowed brows,
"Our society is t'rrible,"
This is my past life leading to my post depression,
and he thinks it atrocious.
Knowing not how to read my face,
though anyone observant could glare through my eyes,
that don't quite meet with their's,
And rest somewhere in the middle of their belt.
Watering profusely,
But Daddy's not so coherent.
My past sobbed out of the VCR.
Slaughtered air freshner cans, floresent tube tops,
and aluminium foil pipes
douse the story perfectly.
With a condom wrapper here and there.
I bit my lip and gawked at my sins.
Daddy swore with 'tisks' in the air
at the television screen,
popcorn traces on his tounge.
And tear drops buried deep behind my eyes.
Author notes
Written May 16th, 2004
A contest entry
- Dark,Angst, Hope Contest, inspiring by Lacer.
300 points, ended September 4, 2004, 43 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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umm the title drew me in lol nice job
-lacer
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Wow! This is amazing! The writing in this poem is absolutely phenomenal. You definitly have talent. I feel like this should be published and famous. You should try getting it published because Im sure it could be! Well, I think every teenager knows this scene that you described beautifully. Great job!
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The last stanza is beyond appreciation. I couldn't find the perfect word to appreciate. An excellent write. It seems like a story telling. Through a poem, it was so perfect. Great work. Keep penning...
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