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THE DARK SIDE(complete)

THE DARK SIDE

INTRO.
Guess we all have a Dark Side but don't let it show,
Much prefer screams of laughter to screams from below
But I should let it out for some air, in the night.
Mustn't let it roam free though (huge teeth! what a bite!)

My Dark Side has taken and twisted my thinking,
I try to make sense of this world but it's stinking;
A pungent miasma from old good intentions.
With rancid assistance that needs disinfection.

RELIGION
He stumbles along, through thick clouds of green smog,
With strange wispy lights all around from the bog.
My Dark Side needs answers but where to begin?
Perhaps with Religion, the cure for all sin?

No sooner has that thought popped into my head
Through Dark Side eyes I see that I'm now with the dead.
The priest, with the tragic young mother in prayer,
Has explained to the girl why he has to be there.

I am sickened as he says her baby had sin!
That, wet from the womb, still-born child was unclean?
It seems that my Dark Side has no answers here,
So I'll move on and search for the wisdom they fear.

WAR
I'm absorbed by my Dark Side , I see through his eyes,
Note I wear an old cloak and burst shoes the wrong size.
I lurch forward across stony road in small town.
Three Hummers sweep past and I'm almost knocked down.

I look over a ridge in this land with no soul;
There it is, a vast airbase, armed troops on patrol.
Here Air Traffic control has a nightmare to manage
The daily drones , Langley based, "Collateral Damage"

I see them, one by one, as those Predators fly.
Remote controlled ; CIA; I breathe a sad sigh.
If the film, "Terminator" was honestly screened
The Resistance are tribesmen, Predators the machines.

After ten years of fighting , God knows what for,
We are all sick and tired of this old, tragic war.
My Dark Side now shakes, he's got fleas in his vest
Then shuffles away to continue his Quest.

LOVE
I open my eyes, feel the heat of the night,
Cover face with old cloak at the sound of a fight.
The girl being beaten is less than fourteen,
Even now, with eyes closed, I can still hear her screams.

The three men who kick her and punch her don't care,
As a crowd gathers round they have nothing to fear.
This is business! the prostitutes have to be shown
That the pimps rule their lives; the girl whimpers and moans.

The fat, sweaty pimp who appears to be chief,
Now produces a knife, I stare in disbelief.
Someone in the crowd finds his voice shouting, "No!"
The other two pimps grab the girl, they all go.

A bystander notices how I am shaken
Laughs and informs me, "That one is taken."
He tells me some old man bought her as slave.
I stagger away, feel as cold as the grave.

SADISM
I stand in a doorway to rest for a while,
A girl pushes past me, in tears, tries to smile
The door shuts behind her, soon I hear her screams.
The crack of a whip on soft skin haunts my dreams.

I pound on the door, yelling "Please let me in !"
The room then goes quiet, no more sounds of pain.
Door opens, large muscular figure revealed,
Harsh laughter, room empty, she's gone; I have failed.

I try to push past the goon guarding the door
He hits me and I land, in pain, on the floor.
I taste the blood, try to act, I have my pride
Then gasp as a boot crashes into my side .

I'm thrown from the doorway out into the street
The door slams behind me, I rise to my feet.
A poorly drawn curtain will let me look in
But do I really want to see what lies within.

I feel my heart thumping as I reach the light
My eyes wander round the room, then see the sight.
The girl's skin, once perfect, crossed by bloody strips.
She writhes in the cruel caress of master's whip.

Then knowledge floods through me, as I back away
What I am shown now was the same yesterday!
Dear God , just the same for millenia before
Every night, rich and powerful are yelling "Encore!"

They're not really bad, all these tycoons we see,
They're just bored so they need to have fun, (so do we)
The difference being the innocence lost
For rich people's pleasure, a terrible cost.

The answer, the way to achieve our redemption,
Deny these corruptors of youth their exemptions
With Law and plain decency they shall be involved
From matters of honesty, protection dissolved.

But how to achieve this, I wish that I knew,......
Here is a Dark whisper, from me straight to you
These powerful won't change without a vile fight
We are many, so I pick my target tonight ......

.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

You did walk on the dark side!

I don't know where its coming from, I'm really a nice person. Better out than in I suppose

Ian

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment

Of what we know and what we wish we could know!
The number of men I know who don't tell their wives their sexual fantasies
and are happy to reveal to me just cos I'm curious and safe with a secret!

You literally brought tears to my eyes.

Not even going to bother with the punctuation this time, I'm sure you will pick them up on fine edit.

Will there be more volumes? Politics? Economy? I hope so. And if there are you might want to re-arrange the order so that LOVE is last.

Either way it needs a conclusion.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Managing Directors, with Richard (themoonman)

Thanks for the encouragement, Jess, I must try to find my way back to my comfort zone
Ian

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment

I love precisely that you are venturing out.

cheers,
Jess
Neopoet Managing Directors, with Richard (themoonman)

Now that was some great poetry. I'm a fan.

JahLo
"A light complexion, graceful carriage, and a bewitching smile- those constitute a woman's true worth"

My apologies for the delay in my reply. I am so pleased that you enjoyed this effort.

Regards

Ian

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment

Yes Tam, this wis pure dead brilliant. Sorry fur the wee bit o Glesgi, me coming from Ayrshire and all that. No this was very very good. Regards Roscoe..

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

Roscoe,

Gonnae no dae that? but. Gled yi liked it , but. Nivver ken ah wiz a Fifer, eh? An interlouper frae East Fife in 1980. Jings, Crivvens, Help ma boab.

Ian

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment

However, I can't can't call this story telling.
As an exposition you have all the parts, but in my perspective this is reflection. To tell a tale we need a bit more than a "complication" of observation.
A complication is one or more events that keep a character from their intended goals. Our observer sees many things that trouble him, but nothing that directly interferes with his "moving forward".

"The crisis may be a recognition, a decision, or a resolution. The character understands what hasn’t been seen before, or realizes what must be done, or finally decides to do it. It’s when the worm turns. Timing is crucial. If the crisis occurs too early, readers will expect still another turning point. If it occurs too late, readers will get impatient–the character will seem rather thick." -Jerome Stern

The word "complete" in the title suggests we're finished, yet no story has been told. I still have to check out the "extra" and I apologize for my tardiness, but as special as the poem's reflection is... it's missing too many pieces to be a tale.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Wesley, as usual you put your finger on the beating muscle of ill-wrapped inanities that I try to pass off as poetry.I agree that this was not a story in the conventional sense, as it did not have an ending. Well, here it is..

I doubt if you have the slightest idea of the importance I place on your comments and suggestions. I consider myself extremely fortunate to be a recipient of this experience.

Ian

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment

This comment is out side of the workshop, your write here is awesome,
and held my attention all the way, it matters not where you strayed,
Just Bloody Great, wasn't the Pilgrims Progress something along these lines ????
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

Thanks, Ian, I find your comments extremely encouraging for my essay into a different genre

Ian

TIME FLIES LIKE AN ARROW, BUT FRUIT FLIES LIKE A BANANA

author comment
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