Get Paid
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.
And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopa
Personal Energy
A life in desolation, remained in naievety
Criminal aberrancy, they rest among their ancestry
As an adolescent his life was filled with agony
Rancour put a tragic end to the affinity
His childhood and puberty were consisting
of maltreatment and abhorent humiliations
His accumulating fury leading to an
unimaginable horrible escalation
Disposed of his relatives one by one
Convulsive twitch, morbid homicide
Increase of the dreadful phobia
Parental slaughter, infanticide
Parricide
Hatred actuated by the next of kin
The culprits of his painful education
The moment of judgement and punishment is there
Murderous massacre, obtruncation
Parricide
Sickened thoughts in his mind without repent
When he carries his mind to their fatal and
A reminiscense of death, disreputable history
Motive of retaliation, a revolting event