Costume calls in the big city
Train rides in the bellow freezing
Wearing mini skirts
With fairy wings
Calling it a costume
Or the biggest waste of forty dollars
This world has ever seen
They see enough
As rain pours over flooded streets
While fire burns through wooded tress
Chanting in unison
One foot falls behind the other
With only one drop of blood
On her sleeve
Wondering where the bleeding
Started; all wondering
Where the fighting started
Ghost and choke
Like single words
Stuck in time and motion
On the tip of her tongue
That she points, stabbing
At the dark, for answers
For help
Nine one one
He calls it an emergency
Rage, driving insane
In this instance
By the fire
Dancing in the shadows
Are the answers
To the dialed calls
And hung up lines
Because we all lie a little
On mischief night
"Train rides in the bellow freezing" - i like the phrase "bellow freezing" for some reason, but just wanted to check, should it be "below freezing"?
Life is like a play, each individual's is full of leads, minor characters and non-speaking extras [strangers]. The city is our stage; people are doing senseless things, chaos reigns...is it a tragedy or a farce?
I really like how you've laid out this piece; the tone, pace, language...it all worked for me.
I don't think I 'get' what you intended this to mean, but I enjoyed reading it and it provoked reflection re: humanity and its drama.
If you'd like to educate me about this, I'd appreciate it.
If not, cool piece. Thanks for posting it.
This flowed really well up untill the last section. I kinda got lost there. The imagery was really good. At first i seemed like this was depicting a halloween night in some random big city. Then as it went on, I got the feel it was that the city itself was a mascarade of costumes, all running and moving along. then end gave me the image of a mad man chasing down a 40 dollar street walking hooker, whose ever deal had gone bad, and was caught and got into a fight.
So just what was it being described here? I would love to know. Great work!
I'll admit it, I cannot for the life of me write on cue. It just comes to me when it wants to, and doesn't when I want it to. Go figure. In between sudden urges to write, I dance, a lot, listen to som.. more..