Poetry

Devilishly Dangerous: a Double Acrostic

7 Apr , 2018  

Face facts: some are ruled by hope and some by fear.
All are mortal, even you. Yes, even you,
Comrade, with your hundred smiling Facebook faces.
Each keystroke, rat-a-tat-tat, fires gunshots
Branding terror, while jaded papparazzi
Offer bounties for another shot, a
One-time deal, exceptional, American
Killings as natural as apple pies.

Mitchell Allen is the only one, so far, to challenge me with a poetry form – the double acrostic – and now, it’s his turn!

NEXT!


6 Responses

  1. Anklebuster says:

    Brilliant! If a reader hadn’t been informed of the form, the “double-agent” would be well-hidden. I suppose my entry, then would be a double-reverse? At any rate (how about 15.00/hour?), kudos to you for constructing a timely poem!

    Here’s one of mine, as promised:

    The Closet

    The closet conceals the darkness.
    Hidden within the absence of light, a mysterious force quietly lurks,
    Enveloping fear’s electrical essence.

    Cloaked in the uncertainty of ignorance, masked with the madness of confusion.
    Lost in the shadow of doubt, locked in the prison of terror’s trunk.
    Obscured, ignored and overlooked like the pall of ever-present stagnant air.
    Stepped on, drop-kicked and shoved aside like the stillbirth of a bad idea.
    Enduring the humility of oppression and gripped by the silence of dread –
    Truth wriggles, strains, struggles to be free.

    Can Truth be found, though she seems to be forever out of reach?
    Outracing the numbing blackness of a never-ending moonless night?
    Navigating the tortuous turns of twisted mental mazes?
    Can Truth fight back, will she prevail?
    Eviscerate the imagined tarantula!
    Abort the frozen claustrophobe!
    Lance the pustulant hysteric!
    Shatter the self-imprisoned chain!

    Truth has escaped at last, and there is much she has to do:
    Humility has risen up, proud once more, to become her justice poetic.
    Enlightenment is extruded, reason reshaped and wisdom wrought.

    Dread has been drowned, swiftly swallowed up in a sea of righteous noise.
    Air is reverently refreshed, filled with the sweet scent of overlooked ideas.
    Revelations hint that a shadow is saddled with a terrible weight, too:
    Keeping terror’s trunk full and doubt’s whereabouts under control;
    Nurturing uncertainty with the unguent of ignorance, creating confusion’s mosaic;
    Enhancing the electrifying effect of fear’s essence;
    Shrouding the mystery of it all in a heavily brocaded, mildewed cloth.
    So that darkness conceals the closet.

    Cheers,

    Mitch

    • Good lord.

      I don’t even want to compete with THAT. Love the seventh line, and the ninth. And the fifth of the third stanza! LOL Wish I could get close enough, but in the closet of MY imagination, tarantulas eviscerate ME. Ah, for the unguent of ignorance!

      If you hadn’t revealed all, it would have taken me a while to figure it out. Never thought of backing up and around.

  2. StuHN says:

    Hey Holly. 100 smiling Facebook Faces: is that an oxymoron? 🙂

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