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murder in the first degree
by Rachelle Howe
allow me a moment for
prima donna intricacies.
these things are beyond us,
this world is shaky and crumbled.
we decay, we live, we dance,
and we love the blood as it flows
from our glass-lined eyes.
i'm holding the knife, fit for my hand,
i thrust, impaled in you.
sacrificed, you writhe.
you are a mortal; i've broken your vertebrae.
the music clouds vision, the
bump and grind of murder and incest
rocks my world and i am
in the middle of debauchery.
this was how Lot felt
before the brimstone fell.
i was smitten, but you
you hedonist!
you're a walking curse,
these swear words beyond our
recognition.
i'm floundering in the apathy,
i'm drowning in the indecision.
cut me free.
i'll bleed out.
09/26/2003
Author's Note: O.o meh. there are two versions of this. i don't know which one i want to post, but i'm going to go with this one. it was, after all, the original.
Posted on 09/26/2003
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Christopher Shin on 09/26/03 at 06:40 PM Wow very descriptive. I'm going to avoid you in a dark alley. |
| Posted by Ginette T Belle on 09/26/03 at 07:02 PM hardcore! ooooh...i love those last two lines...*sigh* |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 09/26/03 at 08:44 PM Sweet God, Rachelle, this is amazing! Vivid and graphic and startling! |
| Posted by Trisha De Gracia on 09/27/03 at 03:13 AM "and we love the blood as it flows
from our glass-lined eyes." is sick, twisted and pretty. This poem's so.... wrenching..... well done.
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| Posted by JD Clay on 09/27/03 at 05:07 PM Life, to others, is not always as we see it. I suppose that is what keeps it so interesting, and your poem gives rise to that thought, distinctively. Good stuff, Rachelle.
Peace... |
| Posted by Max Bouillet on 09/29/03 at 06:32 PM I love the allusions and the intense imagery. Exquisite verse! |
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