deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nightmare on Alm Street
As the pariah dog
of unknown pedigree
limps down at the end
of the deserted road and
the half eaten moon emerges
from it's hiding of sailing-saturnine
clouds under the beautiful abode of the
little boy's beautiful god in the smudged sky
the cardboard city materializes like a photograph
slow the edges sharpen-the squalor silenced to a stupor
the desolate heaps of yesterdays’ urban waste stare-crawl-
reach-itch at you like a lower-extremity arterial skin ulcer on
a cold night and the stench assaults you like a frenzied piece of
senseless sub-urban folklore-only if you could tell the difference
a skeletal baby whimpers-intermittent-its head mocking at the body-
malnourished- worm-infested-diseased, with an artsy protruding ribcage-
countable-like an intricate tapestry of dark brown skin over hollowed bones
and the mother stares in darkness and soft grudge, her brazen eyes averting
your gaze-whatever it takes-that could be any of these-curiosity, pity, empathy,
revulsion, indifference, actualization, blank, existential ennui or search for meaning.
probably as a warm drop of tear runs down the cheeks, getting up she pulls the rug that
serves as a door or a cover-from the light, eyes, reach of the world-down with an alacrity
that makes you want to compose the next status update on facebook, but then something
else takes over and you move on to the next train of thought or rather afterthought-may be
something set in the middle ground as unmindful you walk along-elated at your day's success-
1. Your next street art exhibition 2. Possible mention in the gallery for the monochrome series
3. Number of ‘Likes’ and ‘Comments’ and the surrounding continuum of awe for future-
All of a sudden a momentary afterthought arrests the fluid flow with the
starkness, darkness your eyes encountered thru out the day and tackle-
immediate block of a defense mechanism-a phoenix rises and tells
‘accolades come with a price, so often which is an excess.’
A voice-a noise-the ADULT within your psyche-rationale
A lady-may be her, may be not* what are the odds?-
screams in the distance with muffled voices diluting
the overall drama as you rev your car, filling the air
with blaring pop music and the rubber screeches
along tar leaving symmetric pneumatic trails
(full stop.)
Published 9th Jan 2012
| Edited 13th Jun 2012
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 6
reads 816
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
9th Jan 2012 6:28pm
This is a fine piece of literature from top to bottom. It reminds me of Henry Miller a little bit.
9th Jan 2012 8:53pm
M
Thank you.
Honoured.:)
Have not read Miller.
Except for the first half
of Tropic of Cancer and I
somehow could relate to you
saying that.:)
I should finish it and then
delve into the rest of him.
Curtsy,
S'
Thank you.
Honoured.:)
Have not read Miller.
Except for the first half
of Tropic of Cancer and I
somehow could relate to you
saying that.:)
I should finish it and then
delve into the rest of him.
Curtsy,
S'
9th Jan 2012 10:15pm
10th Jan 2012 1:36pm
Kym
Thank you as ever.
Now that's the second time
I hear of Miller.
I feel a tryst is imminent.
Curtsy,
S'
Thank you as ever.
Now that's the second time
I hear of Miller.
I feel a tryst is imminent.
Curtsy,
S'
13th Jun 2012 7:58pm
A marvelously sinister observational poem, shaped and all the more impressive because of it. In the end there you go beyond merely painting a picture, you bring the scene to life with an astounding use of diction and the arbitrarily normal thoughts on the subjects facebook status.
Keep them coming.
Keep them coming.
14th Jun 2012 1:19pm
Duncan
Thank for stopping by. I appreciate the time
you have taken to find this one.
And for everything you had to say. The shape was honestly an accident. Like a lot of the other poems, but most of the times they work well in the context of the poem.
This piece was originally much simpler, but a rewrite with the additions you pointed out[Facebook Status] made it better.
Again, many thanks. And I will do my best.:)
Light,
Sumeet
Thank for stopping by. I appreciate the time
you have taken to find this one.
And for everything you had to say. The shape was honestly an accident. Like a lot of the other poems, but most of the times they work well in the context of the poem.
This piece was originally much simpler, but a rewrite with the additions you pointed out[Facebook Status] made it better.
Again, many thanks. And I will do my best.:)
Light,
Sumeet
