deepundergroundpoetry.com
Desperate Measures
A light grip here
A barrage of snacks and fatty foods there
Anger
Lust
Frustration
Higher thought doesn't seem to help
I got lost in a cape
I used to put on
to adorn and enshrine
my last shreds of hope
Laws in place for the stupid and frustrated
Trapped in their lives
Forced spectators as each moment ticks by
Disgrace in repetition of needs not being met
Escape the only door left unguarded
Even if the hallway leads straight into Hell
At least damnation is a far-cry better
than a death invested in seconds
Food
Alcohol
Sex
Drugs
Cigarettes
God
Work
Money
Status
Politics
Books
Music
Love
We all have our desperate measures of control
Some more tame than others
and few have a hungrier beast than most
Woe be unto those
who would chew through their own limbs
to escape the pendulum blade that falls with each sway
Soon they will have no way to run
And all the past possibilities will leave them nowhere
With no higher ground to seek;
when that pale, thin, man of pain comes calling
Then, even Hell would turn its back on them
Never having caught enough of their scent
Never having licked enough of their flesh
Until the kill was just too easy to make the effort worthwhile
A barrage of snacks and fatty foods there
Anger
Lust
Frustration
Higher thought doesn't seem to help
I got lost in a cape
I used to put on
to adorn and enshrine
my last shreds of hope
Laws in place for the stupid and frustrated
Trapped in their lives
Forced spectators as each moment ticks by
Disgrace in repetition of needs not being met
Escape the only door left unguarded
Even if the hallway leads straight into Hell
At least damnation is a far-cry better
than a death invested in seconds
Food
Alcohol
Sex
Drugs
Cigarettes
God
Work
Money
Status
Politics
Books
Music
Love
We all have our desperate measures of control
Some more tame than others
and few have a hungrier beast than most
Woe be unto those
who would chew through their own limbs
to escape the pendulum blade that falls with each sway
Soon they will have no way to run
And all the past possibilities will leave them nowhere
With no higher ground to seek;
when that pale, thin, man of pain comes calling
Then, even Hell would turn its back on them
Never having caught enough of their scent
Never having licked enough of their flesh
Until the kill was just too easy to make the effort worthwhile
Published 9th Mar 2011
| Edited 18th Mar 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 4
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
9th Mar 2011 10:38pm
For a long time I've been hoping for an effective poem about death on here. A serious and thoughtful study of mortality, a subject which often threatens to drive me insane. A poem that isn't depressing or cliched, but reflective. I've found that poem here. This is almost a masterpiece Pierre, and possibly your finest work to date. The last two verses are orgasmically good.
9th Mar 2011 10:50pm
High praise, indeed. It's one of those that just fell out of the tip of the pen with even very little editing so it feels a bit undeserved. It's not capturing what I am most concerned with so, to me, I wouldn't put it in with my best but it means a lot that you liked it.
9th Mar 2011 11:56pm
"a death invested in seconds" - yesss!
wow, this one rocked me, PTM. i know you like constructive feedback, (best value, i know) but i love the elements you chop-suey-ed here, and that last stanza was amazing, as was the pendulum blade image. really good, especially for just falling off the pen-tip. (love when they just come out like that.) greatness. reading you is like coming back to a familiar classic in my collection: homey and hitting.
wow, this one rocked me, PTM. i know you like constructive feedback, (best value, i know) but i love the elements you chop-suey-ed here, and that last stanza was amazing, as was the pendulum blade image. really good, especially for just falling off the pen-tip. (love when they just come out like that.) greatness. reading you is like coming back to a familiar classic in my collection: homey and hitting.
16th Mar 2011 6:42am
I feel like you should have ended the poem with "The Apocalypse is nigh!!!!" Lol, just a thought, not that this isn't amazing the way it is. Amazing Work.
