| A little while ago an old friend of mine approached me with an addition to the Matt Cave family. Apparently he's become considerably more goth since the last time I saw him, and he'd also been writing poetry. He requested that I post some of it here so that he could test it on an audience before sending out to publishers. He has also asked that I keep his identity secret, since he doesn't want his mom finding out about it, and thus he is writing under a pen name. And so, without further ado, I give you: |
| Gothetry by The Count of Sorrows |
| Heart Gardener Her words, they cut, and as they cut, they dig. A spade of pain, digging, digging, digging. Digging into my soul. Then it strikes my heart. She pulls the pin, and plants, plants a hand grenade in my aorta. All my hopes, all my joy, ....KA-BOOM. |
| A Ballad for Beelzebub Cherry lips and blond ringlets, these are rather repulsive to him. But a pit of rancid flesh, churned by demons foul of face, Ah, that makes him smile. No plaid skirts or petticoats, are found in his porno mags. Rather, cloaks of torn hair, And gowns of human skin worn by flaming corpses. Never has a girl, showered kisses upon his horns. Nor a woman carressed his palm. A solitary frightful figure, Beelzebub...I think he's queer. |
| Baloney Sandwich That sandwich, never wanted.. That sandwich I hate for lunch. That sandwich, with crusts uncut. That sandwich, with rind unpeeled. That sandwich, alone amongst my lunchbox. That sandwich makes me fill my thermos. With tears. |
| The Devil at Dip N Dots She smiles at me, scoop in hand. That dark scoop, tainted with her evil. Large or small, what cup for me? She knows, I see it in her eyes, she knows. A dime short of large, and ten pounds hunger more than small. And she laughs, with her blood red lips. She laughs, and offers me a water. |
| Sparrow Sparrow, sparrow, fly away. Take off with your wings, navigate with your smarts. Travel to distant places, meet many new people, and eat the worms of my heart. |