Spooky Speaking

Maybe thing’s aren’t always hopeless

But it’s the days like this that make it hard to focus

And it’s the stamps like THIS that label me a culprit

Powdered Madness by the pulpit

Sour sadness and blackened rope-lift

Nightmare beneath hair, I live it

Vivid and precise, as nice as ice is

Tomatoes are diced and livid in accord to the price bid

Solid stock stalks the ark which embarks in the dark

Desolate martyr, a monster’s charter is marked

Response remarks on chart

Open ocean, seldom spoken and floating with sharks

Swim and surf and dim is turf

The fields are hurt

They are grim when chances to win are slim

Still the payment is biodiverse

Dues anew, letter and form

Me, misinformed and never reimbursed

Visions of pine tugged at hearse

Nothing is fine, I tell you

As life goes, life can only get worse

Something of mine, felled at purse

And for me, promise is opaque and buried in dirt

At what cost?

What was it all worth?


5 comments on “Spooky Speaking

  1. the poem rocks but hang in there is hope!

  2. Melancholy and downbeat, good but quite solemn.

  3. This poem doesn’t need an explanation, and I sure hope it’s not hanging in there, waiting to disappear. It’s extremely powerful, and stands completely on its own,a fully legitimate expression. In fact, this poem is quite extraordinary (Thank goodness for us that you needed to post something, eh? 🙂
    No disrespect at all to your reader, and I hope you’ll take this in the spirit offered.
    Just – never back off from a poem like this one – you’ll cut off its oxygn. Let it be what it is – an act of strength someone might not recognize if you hang the “Hey, hang in there, I don’t actually live here” signs on its door.
    Well, I see I’ve given a speech – I’m just an old punk with a big mouth, and your stuff knocks me out, That Dude Eddie. I’ll keep future comments short, I promise.

    P.S. Thanks so much for following me. Right now, my blog is having a political identity crisis, but art will find its way back there soon.

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