by Alisa Js
what kind of madness is this
that creeps inside twisted minds,
surrounding every silent scream
before the breath
to find a path and leave.
and mangle a cry for what, exactly
this kind of neurosis never lets go
of its obsessive deviation,
breaking down all negligent restrictions
from those lesser types.
disarranged is but a pleasant way
to simply strut insane.
smacks of strange conclusions,
while delusions flap against
this tortured aberration.
slip a cloak around the guise
and sit beside this chair,
what mania drives the blight
of lunacy's delirium,
with straying lines too close to blur
most common sense
what sickened pleasure gives
that precise amount of demented praise
and pathetically deranged ...
Posted on 03/25/2009
Copyright © 2023 Alisa Js
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by George Hoerner on 03/25/09 at 01:25 PM|
WOW, that is quite a piece Alisa! And who among us doesn't have this thread running somewhere in the mind maybe not recognized but there still.
|Posted by Charlie Morgan on 03/25/09 at 04:12 PM|
...wow to the third degree! as i read this it seemed to be so ancient in its perview of the human drama(and wise because at your young age) you speak of the ages, gawsh gal this is so keenly heavy...i can't say enough without getting googly, peace.
|Posted by Joan Serratelli on 02/11/21 at 09:09 PM|
Great piece- haunting read Good pick for POTD