Poem -

Hunger wrought a haunting spectre

Hunger wrought a haunting spectre

Deprivation of adequate nourishment
particularly during critical years of puberty
one factor I surmise contributed
tummy stymied, stultified
and squelched maximum growth
of my body, mind, soul...
as if this middle aged
mwm counted deliverance
from gremlins kickstarting
livingsocial among famine stricken.

The core of this atomized aural, cerebral, earl
lee pupil per deaths depredations
led me to explore
deep hidden longing toward suicide
nobody within thine family
of origin fully understood.

The plentiful though
finite nutritious resources
extant within the hearth and home,
sans majority of birthdays spent
could not nudge nor budge this Earthling
to sustain his burgeoning,
decimating, and fostering harmfulness
to thyself, when just a mere whippersnapper.

A glimmer of ghastly images
brought into stark focus via occipital lens
an emotional distortion, and revealed revulsion
enough to silence thine corporeal
being with one last breath.

Speculation found me ruminating,
why an abortifacient appropriate decision
never made, which fluke
worm of biological reproduction begat
despite both parents willingly
aspiring to bear offspring
yet, unbeknownst to themselves
that their only son,
would experience pervasive
sense of worthlessness.

Only later in thee life of this scribe try
to shear omnipotent bonds
of cohesion, and joie de vivre
supplant kamikaze orbital downward spiral
pointing at self induced demised,
which psychological state
poses inscrutable mystery,
and usurer of precious time.

Whereat now, each moment savored
scrunching thy brow with deprivation
for healthy maturation
and shake this head in bafflement,
what aversion to existence
witnessed hollowed cheekbones,
and mere skeletal specimen
most frightful to those,
who loved their heir unconditionally.

The nightmare engendering
total apathy towards self
akin to mental nuclear obliteration
casting an internal war
reconnaissance reached
against mine recalcitrant quiet riot
thru stealth reconnoitering remedy
visited upon my fountainhead
reinstating repatriation
(at me own scaredy cat Appomattox)
of thine boyish body, mind and soul
leaving transient grant.

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Comments

author
Mark Olcott

Matthew

well conceived, inspired and skillfully written, i wonder where, when, for children, is the tipping point for a life, inescapably bent towards that kind of doubt, pain and misery. where is redemption? is it in the enduring? or in the enduring somehow somewhere found along with joy? forgive me if I missed your theme or subject here entirely. even if so, I enjoyed the read.

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