From the Basement

I have fallen afoul of the demons of darkness and silence,
And anger and enduring bitterness. Trapped in a dungeon
I've learned to know well, though it's not one I built; I won't lie
And say that, as my will, if I have one, is without effect.
I'm immobile. I see feet walk outside my window. I suffer
The drone of a TV which can't be turned off. Thus, I'm
Bludgeoned by pleas that I purchase appropriate symbols
Of (clearly quite limited) upward mobility, skewered by portraits
Of instant celebrities, dining on caviar, sitting on thrones,
And then cursed on the news by a cabal of millionaires,
Howling I rob them when I ask for help. I have fallen, I tell you,
And I can't get up. I don't know what I'd like you to do to assist me,
Maybe just place a cool cloth on my forehead, and coo
That this dungeon's okay.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 49 times
Written on 2018-11-06 at 13:48

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jim The PoetBay support member heart!
This poem is working on me. So grim. Not enough light. In other words: well done.

Just reading the poem makes me feel claustrophobic. I can feel for the speaker of the poem, Larry.

Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
This is very well described, Larry. Naturally members of Coo & Co like the cooing, and also the cool cloth. But we're also drawn to the demons and the dungeon and the drone. 'Bludgeoned' is particularly strong :>)