BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,
BTRIPP
btripp

A poem ... from about a week ago

I've had the hand-written form of this sitting on my desk for about a week, but only got around to typing it up yesterday evening. Oh, well ... I don't suppose anybody was just dying to read additional "writhing on the mausoleum floor" stuff from me anyway.


                    IN SWAY TO LODESTONE DICTATES


                    1
                    the moments all broken
                    the hours all vile
                    existence has curdled
                    poisoning day
                    every sight
                    every color
                    every motion
                    twists, nauseates,
                    inverts all being
                    to modes of decay
                    2
                    how can this be,
                    this empty place
                    where no hope harbors,
                    no belief abides?
                    in this zone
                    are only knives
                    and shattered panes
                    of brittle edge
                    everything cutting
                    everything reduced to void
                    3
                    we are sinking
                    into seas of dread,
                    depths of horror,
                    fed by rivers of our fear
                    and storms of despair,
                    gripping, swamping,
                    churning with confusion,
                    frothing angst,
                    and crashing waves
                    betiding doom
                    4
                    shuffling intrudes
                    within the flow,
                    these lines scatter
                    no longer in sway
                    to lodestone dictates,
                    no longer held
                    within a whole,
                    strewn to chaos.
                    without meaning,
                    without a frame


                             - Brendan Tripp
                                05/17/2006

                    Copyright © 2006 by Brendan Tripp
 
 


Not that anybody particularly cares about such minutia ... but I found it notable that this "emerged" in a different pattern than most of my poems (which tend towards five stanzas of eight lines). It is also slightly less dark than what I'm used to seeing crawl out of my psyche. Lucky you.


Visit the BTRIPP home page!



Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 2 comments