Stark Recognition

Stark Recognition

 

Dark forest eyes impose fear

like an ancient Transylvanian castle.

When the smile comes,

I feel unseen fangs sink into my neck.

 

Screams refuse to materialize:

Feels like rodents have chewed

through my vocal cords again,

and the repairman won’t be here soon.

 

The old gnarly demon, long-roosted

in the Texas of my belly,

has set his nest aflame, and

defected to the Iowa of my chest.

 

Meanwhile, outside of the temple ruins,

she and I walk over the icy remains

of shattered church bells, and speak

in tongues about pre-bought burial plots.

 

I wonder if she’s noticed my packed bags,

hunched down in the bottom of the closet,

like an illegal refugee hidden from her

Gestapo stares and dragon-toothed snaps.

 

When she asks if I love her, I know that

I’ll never escape this pretty gulag’s embrace.

I am doomed to a deeper understanding

and shackled in the arms of a Death Angel.

 

I suppose the next step is marriage. 

Reviews

[Hayley]

"Dark forest eyes impose fear
like an ancient Transylvanian castle.
When the smile comes,
I feel unseen fangs sink into my neck."

This really opens up the poem for perfection. Something you want to do but know deep down you can't do... Each stanza I could go through and interpret in a review but I won't. Let's just say this poem speaks volumes of perfection!

[Maurice]

I was taken by the language of the poem. I couldn't help but be struck by the last line.

[Jūdan FyreHeart]

=D Brilliant! The internal struggle and dance with the shadows as they face up to the facts of the tar pit they dove into this time.

[Vanessa Rico]

I am sorry but the last line really made me laugh! Great work!

[Robin]

play possum

[Ed Hart]

run for your life

[J.M]

Wow - an entrapment - that's quite intense. I love it though - the imagery mixed in with the everyday moment - the longing to do something you know you will never do...

[Bubo]

Oh my, what a wonderful wonderful read.............I can see the bag packed hidden, and the realisation that escape will never happen, the mixture of an ancient feel with modern terminology is fab.