deepundergroundpoetry.com
To Him, Losers Are Expendable
Hugging my father felt like
grabbing a wild animal
honed muscles
tensioned as steel cables
smell of beer, whiskey, cigarettes
and blood
beneath cheap cologne
the sound of my heart
against my chest when we touched
because love was metal-laced-adrenaline
split-lipped and training
to be acknowledged
it meant a car crash of
my brother’s teeth against
the honed steel of my knuckles
the blaring horn of his anger because
I was stronger and he couldn’t
break the grip on his wrist
the winner was applauded
like Pavlov’s dogs we would be at it
still remember the time his knee split my nose
and instead of crying I screamed
all of my hate at him
smashed into him with
blow-after-blow
to
the
side of
the head
till he was concussed
my father raised my hand in victory
while my brother lay on the floor
the bitter blow
of winning meant he had to lose….
as the last drink settles
my brother screams abuse
spittle raining on my passive face
No one understood
why he was attacking me
I knew
I was taught
to celebrate his pain
grabbing a wild animal
honed muscles
tensioned as steel cables
smell of beer, whiskey, cigarettes
and blood
beneath cheap cologne
the sound of my heart
against my chest when we touched
because love was metal-laced-adrenaline
split-lipped and training
to be acknowledged
it meant a car crash of
my brother’s teeth against
the honed steel of my knuckles
the blaring horn of his anger because
I was stronger and he couldn’t
break the grip on his wrist
the winner was applauded
like Pavlov’s dogs we would be at it
still remember the time his knee split my nose
and instead of crying I screamed
all of my hate at him
smashed into him with
blow-after-blow
to
the
side of
the head
till he was concussed
my father raised my hand in victory
while my brother lay on the floor
the bitter blow
of winning meant he had to lose….
as the last drink settles
my brother screams abuse
spittle raining on my passive face
No one understood
why he was attacking me
I knew
I was taught
to celebrate his pain
Published 2nd Jun 2022
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comments 2
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The author encourages honest critique.
2nd Jun 2022 2:45pm
this is really deep you left a real impression on my soul
I feel your pain in this write as if it were my own
I was pitted against my sister in a different way for the approval of my father
there is a chasm between us still, to this day and it hurts...
this a powerful write it left me thinking and feeling things I usually stuff down...
bravo for sharing I hope writing about it helps...
I feel your pain in this write as if it were my own
I was pitted against my sister in a different way for the approval of my father
there is a chasm between us still, to this day and it hurts...
this a powerful write it left me thinking and feeling things I usually stuff down...
bravo for sharing I hope writing about it helps...
2nd Jun 2022 2:54pm
Pavlovian is the conjugate of Pavlov. pavlova is a merengue
This is amazing. Write this shit. Write it all. It’s really beautiful. Humbling. It shows the genesis of your self loathing and the weakness you feel in your inability to escape. I think more people can relate this this than anything else.
This is real fucking, gutting yourself and smearing your innards on a page.
Keep doing it.
A few stand outs:
Hugging my father felt like
grabbing a wild animal
:: holy mother of god, that was incredible. It was a kick in the dick as a first line and made me suck in a dirty breath::
::I like the repetition, the anaphora, of the image of metal men. The metaphor bleeds deeper. Metal clashes, it doesn’t feel::
…tensioned as steel cables
….metal-laced-adrenaline
…..the honed steel of my knuckles
::Love the sensory details. Loved the way you turn the entire scene three dimensional::
…..smell of beer, whiskey, cigarettes
….the sound of my heart
….it meant a car crash of
…. the blaring horn of his anger because
:: I liked the repetition of split lip. The concept of being hit in the face, of having your mouth broken, your voice taken, is visceral and chilling. I would have liked to see you rule-of-three it ::
…split-lipped and training
…still remember the time his knee split my
***
I knew
I was taught
to celebrate his pain
::holy fuck what an emotionally brutal ending::
***
I can’t help nerding out over beautiful writing, writing with depth and passion and pain. I can’t help feeling true excitement when someone discovers something and shows it in a way I’d never imagined.
You do that.
Good damn stuff!
This is amazing. Write this shit. Write it all. It’s really beautiful. Humbling. It shows the genesis of your self loathing and the weakness you feel in your inability to escape. I think more people can relate this this than anything else.
This is real fucking, gutting yourself and smearing your innards on a page.
Keep doing it.
A few stand outs:
Hugging my father felt like
grabbing a wild animal
:: holy mother of god, that was incredible. It was a kick in the dick as a first line and made me suck in a dirty breath::
::I like the repetition, the anaphora, of the image of metal men. The metaphor bleeds deeper. Metal clashes, it doesn’t feel::
…tensioned as steel cables
….metal-laced-adrenaline
…..the honed steel of my knuckles
::Love the sensory details. Loved the way you turn the entire scene three dimensional::
…..smell of beer, whiskey, cigarettes
….the sound of my heart
….it meant a car crash of
…. the blaring horn of his anger because
:: I liked the repetition of split lip. The concept of being hit in the face, of having your mouth broken, your voice taken, is visceral and chilling. I would have liked to see you rule-of-three it ::
…split-lipped and training
…still remember the time his knee split my
***
I knew
I was taught
to celebrate his pain
::holy fuck what an emotionally brutal ending::
***
I can’t help nerding out over beautiful writing, writing with depth and passion and pain. I can’t help feeling true excitement when someone discovers something and shows it in a way I’d never imagined.
You do that.
Good damn stuff!
