Show's Over

This is my favourite poem I've written so far, I hope you enjoy it. Spooky scary skeletons and all that.

And the poet said “spread your wings, bird things” and the people took flight wildly

And the applause rose like a Phoenix, and floated over euphoria, exploring the heights of freedom, and the kite-like boundaries of reason

A moment of open hope, and a fleeting agreement

That poem was dope, beautiful, scenic

 

The shows over, let god sort them out, drowned mountain thunder water spout, under the allusion of fusion, ruined nuisance

The shows over, you’re not lucky little clover, disproportionately inappropriate

Slandered a no man’s lander, I’m a freak made of hamburger meat, ketchup with Jesus in the cold freezer

I’ve seen the faces of a race of romantic humanity, displaced hatred paints a pictured mixture of abstract lustre constructed

They are numerous, consuming us in the robust blossoming of the fallen holocaust of flawless reason, malice freedom, sanities treason, a non-believer

I kick back hurt when you splash dirt on their names, do you want to be maimed?

I do not desert my loved ones, to a firing gun, on the run from the reruns unbecoming from the summoning begun from nothing, blood puddled from the sunset, regret, just have to accept it, correct s**t, a misfit with closed lips, a miss hit, who missed it, dead in a midnight lit crypt, elicit liquid fire ammunition reconditioned resentful as a hell sent world abyssal messenger reminisce all content with it all, god sent what I lost, I’ll dismember through the frost, soul lost, rot lots and act as I forgot

I shout, eyes out, see no more but the downpour of cold sores and red gore in a blue rain that stains the pain into the hands of the man, the heart wrenched from the glands, stands in the fallen snow, like a cold suicide note, vomit loud from my throat, woeful

The shows over loner, crossing death’s border, rancid thank you never heard by the birds, the Ravens, no safe haven for slavers freed, forsaken

Lock me up in my shell, my own personal hell

The shows over, forsworn, why do you run like you’re a post mortem organ donor soldier embroidered torture misfortune motion sickness, doping emotion, conflicted convicts

A monument ripped open by a bulldozer, metal tyrannosaurus

The shows over forced closure, hiding in the corner

The shows over, game over, last life, can’t start over

The shows over, abortion unborn, groping the cornucopia

Snows colder, freeloader, frozen utopia

Miscarriage a barrage of bullets from your scrotum

Grab the lavish cabbage clattered cadaver adlibs additives savour labour’s flavour lifesaver

Bedridden sin-riddled unforgiveness forgo living like an alien

The shows over cold shoulder

The shows over corpse warmer

Course folder, smouldering soldier, a dead warrior

Rancid emancipated soul

Swollen unholy, unwhole, unpopulated the only world I’ve ever known

Monday Tuesday, check your secretary better sever the momentary mentor's memories forever seven brazen cavemen shaming waves of serpent fraters laboured barren haven cretin evening season cleaver fever seizure, meagre dreaming, lucid putrid thieving thriving dive into the deep end of the horizon knives and sirens silenced violence, vibrant, red with dread, endless amendments untended, quiet

Store owner in cold storage riots like a pirates insides syphoned 

Love loather molded emotion, comb over the gas explosion

Death’s chorus outlasted, the lucky b*****d spoke his last words

Shut up, buttercup, the mess you left me’s not enough, the merry prairie fields evil deprivation, kneels to prey, are we gonna live another day?

Elevated submarine suicide on the subside of society's concrete bay, a mockery of the apocalypse sub-serviced submersed in emersion occurrence insurgent emergent subversive assurance Multitudinous refurbished

Random tangible mandibles, putrid abusive recluse Cthulhu

Callouses on reality’s individuality, allowing brutality cowardly malleable, cellular air fragile, scalpal phallic calender

Melancholy alcoholic Molotov anonymous

The shows over for me, no closure in defeat, rising from my seat on my feet like an illegal Phoenix, blow my brains out with a kleenex, stain my veins with flames in rage Prometheus ceaselessly a wretched priest of obesity

The shows over, the currents uncertainty flourishes blurring the image of purpose

Beneath waves of aftershave, a grave under the glades, grass-like grenades, trees bleeding shade, consciousness fades, lost in the shame, dead in my veins

Now I'm awake

The shows over nothing left to be found

The shows over, ran over the crowds boundless sound

The shows over, nothing but silence now

The shows over, let me sleep underground

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

[Kay]

There's a lot to say about this piece. I could sit with you over mugs of tea and talk about the metaphors, imagery, allusions, and the meaning I interpreted behind the lines. I chose to read this poem aloud actually, because I find that your writing has interesting rhyme and rhythm. Ended up stumbling on this line: "Grab the lavish cabbage clattered cadaver adlibs additives savour labour’s flavour lifesaver", what a tongue twister, lol. It was a great read, I found the musicality intensifying as the message progressed. I thought it was terrific to end it with "Now I'm awake.. let me sleep underground." Nice!

[Onlyme]

Wow Jack, this really is creepy, haunting, spooky and twisted. Fast flowing, dramatic, and dark. What amazing images it flash and gives you inside your mind's eye. That dance and intrigue and spooks you out. You sure would not read this alone in the dark before bed and sleep. As it would be playing on your mind wink.

[Pete]

this is quite good. pretty sinister and twisted. was hooked from the get-go. "The show's over" is hauntingly telling along with it's repetition. disturbing imagery. many memorable phrases. not sure if i'd want to meet you in a dark alley (Lol) or read this before going to sleep ... :)

[Ghost writer]

I like it, the way you use the shows over throughout was good, and there were a few lines I really liked, the pictures we're good choices to interpret what you were feeling.

[wordman]

pretty damn good on this one my friend