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Pride in Hell
| Open Poetry #1 |
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Pride in Hell |
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Robin Junior Member
since 1999-08-07
Posts 48Cardiff, Wales, UK |
Pride in Hell Noises at night, voices in corridors, Shouts, Screams. Always close, always loud. I hide from them in my bed, in the cold But they sound so close. They come to my door but I don’t let them in. I know who they are. “I’m from the Council.” But I know who they are, I can see their knives, Rat’s teeth in their hands As the black crowds gather by my door. I pretend I’m not there But I can hear them talking, Whispering, Cursing. I know what they want to do. ‘Great Grandmother Savaged at Home’ Foulness poured through the letter box, Sewer minds hunting for sport. I hide by the door, blanket wrapped round me I won’t let them in. I once had a cat, they killed him, Tore him apart for his screams I know what they are, The vermin that want me, Want my food Want my body Want me to let them in. “I’ve got to read your meter.” They killed Jason. Perverted, hating They are waiting For me. I can hear them scratching at the lock, At the door, At the windows. They’ve poisoned my food The meat’s all gone green The fruit has turned black But they can’t get in while I’m watching. I’ve plugged up the bath, they get in if you don’t I don’t flush the pan, let them crawl through my filth I’ll smell them coming. The windows are locked, I nailed them shut. They won’t get through there I made sure. “Mrs Johnson, It’s Pete from the Social” But I’m cold, I’ve no power The gas is gone and I sit in the dark Watching for the chink of light when they come. I listen while they curse at each other, Fight their fights, Fornicate with their children. Satan prowls through those corridors But I read the Book and keep him back Sometimes I shake through cold and fear the page won’t turn and a verse digs into my mind. “Blessed are the weak, for they shall inherit the Earth.” Terrible crimes, every day. “Pensioner Raped in Her House” Not me. “Killer Still Not Found” I know where they are, I can hear them as they plot. “Pensioner Found Dead After Three Months.” |
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| © Copyright 1999 Robin - All Rights Reserved | |||
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INclan Senior Member
since 1999-07-20
Posts 1024Indiana, USA |
Excellent spiral into paranoia. You captured the insanity well. The delusional mind is indeed a foriegn landscape. The sad part is...."they" really did want to help. INclan |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
"She was such a nice lady." "We haven't seen her for three months." "Don't know why anybody would live like that and not come out of the house." This and more on the six o'clock news, stay tuned. At least that's how I read it. You hear about people who haven't stepped out of their house for the last twenty years, living like packrats, never throwing anything away... and you ask youself why whould anybody do that? I think your poem answers the question very well. |
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