The following poems be (yes, be) about half edited. I got a couple things I'm feeling unsure of... but at the same time... I love them. So... read, absorb, enjoy.
::Bow::
Jim Irving’s Monster
When it began
They came for him
Sporadically
Peeking through his windows
Once or twice a month
Watching
Always watching
Never touching
But in time
They grew in courage
Entering if only to
Misplace his ashtray
Or steal a cigarette
When he could take no more
They came more often
Robbing shirts
Or books
Or any random thing
Left out for their hands
Until he nailed the windows shut
And added three more locks
To a thrice locked door.
For a time there was peace
Before their diligence
Kicked in
And they would come
Every other night,
at times
Making their way through the pipes
In the bathroom.
When he grew aware of this
They bore cavities in the walls
To listen to his thoughts.
They crawled beneath
The concrete tiles of his
Single bedroom apartment,
Every so often
Lifting a stone to revel in the madness
They were causing him.
Every night they came
Whispering taunts just
Loud enough for him
To catch the final breath.
It wasn’t long before
Emboldened by his torment
They came in the light of day
Whispers growing in volume
until they were little less than
conversations for his benefit..
Conversing his death
And how they would see to it
How quick
How slow
How painful.
He suspected everyone.
No one was alien to this plot.
Friends. Family.
All craved nothing more
Than the end of him
Everyone but himself
Was the enemy
Until he himself
Was the enemy—when
He caught the whisper
In his own mind
He
Was trying to kill
Himself.
But he couldn’t let it happen
Couldn’t let the beast in his
Mind be his demise.
He
Would rather kill
Himself
Death was surprisingly silent
Peacefully so.
Needle dangling from his arm
Though he couldn’t feel it
Couldn’t taste anything
Couldn’t smell…
His sight did little more
Than distinguish light from dark.
The light was fading
And the dark was growing darker
Darker still
But he cared for little then
He was happy knowing the eyes
Beneath the ground
The ears behind the walls
The voices in his mind
Would cry
Because he had stolen
Their prize.
They came for him
Sporadically
Peeking through his windows
Once or twice a month
Watching
Always watching
Never touching
But in time
They grew in courage
Entering if only to
Misplace his ashtray
Or steal a cigarette
When he could take no more
They came more often
Robbing shirts
Or books
Or any random thing
Left out for their hands
Until he nailed the windows shut
And added three more locks
To a thrice locked door.
For a time there was peace
Before their diligence
Kicked in
And they would come
Every other night,
at times
Making their way through the pipes
In the bathroom.
When he grew aware of this
They bore cavities in the walls
To listen to his thoughts.
They crawled beneath
The concrete tiles of his
Single bedroom apartment,
Every so often
Lifting a stone to revel in the madness
They were causing him.
Every night they came
Whispering taunts just
Loud enough for him
To catch the final breath.
It wasn’t long before
Emboldened by his torment
They came in the light of day
Whispers growing in volume
until they were little less than
conversations for his benefit..
Conversing his death
And how they would see to it
How quick
How slow
How painful.
He suspected everyone.
No one was alien to this plot.
Friends. Family.
All craved nothing more
Than the end of him
Everyone but himself
Was the enemy
Until he himself
Was the enemy—when
He caught the whisper
In his own mind
He
Was trying to kill
Himself.
But he couldn’t let it happen
Couldn’t let the beast in his
Mind be his demise.
He
Would rather kill
Himself
Death was surprisingly silent
Peacefully so.
Needle dangling from his arm
Though he couldn’t feel it
Couldn’t taste anything
Couldn’t smell…
His sight did little more
Than distinguish light from dark.
The light was fading
And the dark was growing darker
Darker still
But he cared for little then
He was happy knowing the eyes
Beneath the ground
The ears behind the walls
The voices in his mind
Would cry
Because he had stolen
Their prize.
1 comment:
I like this one alot.
SOM
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