deepundergroundpoetry.com

And I feel like cutting (A Little Rant)

The ridges of the blade
that knife placed within my gaze
tempting me to cut the slices
of that half & half red velvet-chocolate cake
with icing which would drip
instantly against the heated steel

I
want
a
slice

On a foundation of masquerades
the pressure of the masses
people judging people
society and its basis

We are given glimpses into lives
but confidently told are lies
watered-down and edited
just to ease the would-be tension
No one knows the true story, but I and I

I
want
to
slice

Giving nicks and lacerations
cute trimmings and ghastly grazes
blood oozes steadily,
vision surely hazes

I
have
to
slice

Through the misconceptions
of the biased politics and fanatic religions
bridging the backbone of heretics
on the spleen of every nation
and their forgotten derelicts

I
dare
to cut
the marrow
clean

That of which I have always conceived as ludacris
peeling back the layers
of all the gnashing players
who like to lick their battered wounds
salivating and picking at the clefts
not much, then, is left
to behold

For the slits are now furrowed open
great fissures like geysers enlighten,
erupting quite often,
our bodies now dumped in trenches

Slashing.. slowly around,
experiencing the realisation
of Utopia
and the pain; a relieved euphoria
the release of such dementia
all aforementioned

And
I
feel
like
cutting

CHOP!
Chop up the stereotypical
daintiness of Wall Street and Hollywood
Snip at North Korea;

We all know the climate to be arid,
Middle East to Africa
bear the most bloodshed and wounds
Each and every incision
Rents the land barren
seeping mantle plumes
of acrid cuts and scars

Rioting and screaming,
they cannot ask for more
than to burn and plummet
Babylon to the core

So,
I
need
to
cut

With the ridges of this blade
this knife placed within my reach
offering me to cut the slices
of that half & half red velvet-chocolate cake
with crimson icing which would drip
instantly against the heated steel

And
I
feel
like
cutting

HACK!
Hacking away these pieces of skin, flesh and bone
Wiping the slate clean
That I and I will atone