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in the basement
Contributed by
Cancer
on
Tuesday, 29th July 2003 @ 12:05:00 PM in AEST
Topic:
StoryPoetry
|
in a cold, dark place
the sounds of dripping water
and unseen creatures rustling
these are my only company
above, four thin bars of light
to me, the ceiling
to the Otherworld, the floor
i am king down here, sorta
the rats and insects are my friends now
they eat my tears
i eat their young
three loud stomps from above
three stomps means "meal time"
dad cracks open the trapdoor
and places my meal on the top step
some corn, a half-eaten piece of bread
and a cup of water
i scurry to it after the door closes
(not a moment too soon
can't stand the blinding light)
devouring it
letting my friends lick the crumbs from my face
we wish dad would get another dog
when Rusty, our last dog, got rabies
dad dumped him down the stairs
my friends and i cornered him
he was half-mad and weak
we took him down quickly
then the rats, spiders, beetles, and i
feasted like victorious knights after a war
and when the dog was chewed hollow
we ate the maggots and slower flies within
minutes? days? months? years?
time simply has no meaning here
but my growling stomach
confirms that my fear's are real
it's been too long since three stomps
announced a meal
i sent the beetles out to scout
they returned and confirmed that dad was dead
lying in the yard, hand on his chest
my subjects quaked with fear
as my screams turned to sobs
and they scurried back to their respective holes
(surely someone will notice him gone
they will come looking for him
they've got to
then they'll find me here
they'll save me and my friends
my friends...
i'm so hungry)
my friends don't come to play no more
scared off i suppose, by the rats that decompose
half-eaten and blood soaked on the floor
more rats remain, but they won't come out
i've eaten three of my fingers
and most of the meat off my feet
i'm scabbing well and haven't lost much blood
but, still i am weak
i can hear those traitors whispering
i know their plan
i can only pray that help comes soon
waking, too weak to move
feeling the rats chewing on my stomach
can't even close my mouth as the spiders crawl in
the beetles worm into every hole
that is big enough to allow access
and as i feel the rats advance to my throat
and as i feel the spiders laying their eggs inside
i close my eyes
and know that i won't wake up again
they came looking for dad, two weeks later
and after they searched the house
they checked the basement in the toolshed
and found me
a clothed skeleton stripped of meat
covered in spiderwebs
in the corner, they found what was left of mom
after dad tossed her down the stairs
her head was on a shelf
i wouldn't let the others eat it
because i did love her
i wanted to help her escape
but i was so hungry
dad wouldn't feed me 'til she was dead
i cried as i ate the breast that nursed me
i kissed her head everynight before i slept
they also found what was left of sis
i had let the rats have her
i never liked her much anyway
it was her fault i was down here
dad locked me here after she told them
that i had peeped on her in the shower
and i was doing "that dirty thing again"
stupid *****
i laugh from beyond
i can only imagine the stories they came up with
i doubt any were close to the truth
one more thing, before i go
you may think it's silly, but it meant everything to me
when i finally died, and my spirit was set free
i remember looking down and smiling
at the beautiful sight of my friends at their feast
and hoping that they took their communion
"In Remembrance of Me"
Copyright ©
Cancer
... [
2003-07-29 12:05:00]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: in the basement
(User Rating: 0 )
by Former_Member on
Tuesday, 29th July 2003 @ 12:45:32 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| errr.......i don't know what to say about this, but...errr...........i hope you don't mind but your poem is quite disgusting. your last stanza was actually very nice. |
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Re: in the basement
(User Rating: 1 )
by Ilhar on
Tuesday, 29th July 2003 @ 02:38:34 PM AEST
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extremely disgusting ( the fact I had just eaten lunch did not help) but a very well written piece very vivid
Shari |
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Re: in the basement
(User Rating: 1 )
by hardcoreputa on
Tuesday, 29th July 2003 @ 03:38:32 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| definutly dark, definutly morbid... everything i expected from a great poem... the fact that you fed off everything you loved, and let you beloved rats eat you in the end, such a harsh tretment to even imagine... just... wow... i loved the imagry and everything... this is why i love your poems... you can think up some of the most horrible things. truely a great peice of work ~Apryl |
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Re: in the basement
(User Rating: 1 )
by DreamWeaver on
Wednesday, 30th July 2003 @ 08:21:38 AM AEST
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| Morbid .. but a stunning piece of work ... |
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Re: in the basement
(User Rating: 1 )
by bobotheclown on
Thursday, 31st July 2003 @ 06:07:36 PM AEST
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they eat my tears
i eat their young
I loved this 'scrawl' as you called it, but those two lines really stuck out at me. I don't really know what to say except it captivated me I was entranced by the imagery you put in this poem it was so descriptive and if I am correct the last line was a little stab at Jesus right? Ne way hope all is well with you.
Bobo (Joel) |
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Re: in the basement
(User Rating: 1 )
by Cancer on
Thursday, 31st July 2003 @ 08:20:10 PM AEST
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| thank you and yes, you are right. the last line "in remembrance of me" i've seen on tables in churches where the collection plates are held. we weakly feed off the death of christ, using it as some feeble vehicle of hope for a better "hereafter", like the starving rats did when they devoured their god. |
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