The Unseen

The twitch of bugbears is harder to feel,

When growing up there’s less to kill.

The body absorbs terrible guilt

Transitioning to cigarettes from chocolate milk.

 

Slinking outside I sit on my throne

And take in the virulent gas bones.

I concern myself with waking my father

From fear that he’ll whip me harder.

 

Yet a new consternation blooms

My heart stops, engulfed mid-fume.

A sprinkler spits and coughs a terrible sound

Though not a watering device targets the clouds.

 

A beast is slain in front of my ears,

A torture present, I hover and leer.

Nonexistent images splash through my wits.

I wait for it’s approach, can’t move, I stick.

 

Something is dead, an actual crime.

Puts a scourge as a mere fable this time.

I flea the me and sidle away from the dark

No longer afraid of my idle patriarch.

Reviews

[kris reed]

Great! This must be the sounds of dead animals. Suggestions if you want: 'bone' instead of 'bones' (does this change the intention?), 'does bloom' instead of 'bloom', 'coughs terrible sounds' instead of 'a terrible sound', 'ear' instead of 'ears' (along with rhyming, I think this brings the focus more to the sound of the dying beast, than the actual appendage of your ears), 'wit' instead of 'wits', 'as mere fable' instead of 'as a mere fable'. Hope these are helpful, I assume you've already considered most of them, but I wrote them anyways. Who are you child? Your thoughts sometimes appear in my head (plus I'm battling Stuart for posts on your poems).

[Jeni Reed]

You and Stuart must continue in battle. A fight til the bitter end I says. Thanks for your thoughts, I have thought about them and perhaps it does flow better, but for some reason I feel it does change the intent, I meant, behind the tent. However, I shall consider and me thanks you.

[kris reed]

One should never change in a tent that is back lit, for it leads to pulling awkward things out one's arse; just ask Austin Danger Powers.

[Jeni Reed]

That. Is surely lives most valuable lesson.

[Stuart Lethe]

This is a magnificent tale that fills the hearts empty holes with the extraordinary stories and things that a hole in the heart should be filled with.

[Jeni Reed]

I agree! The heart is meant to have holes to give the individual a purpose to fill them.