Moth Boy
Boy grew from a mothball
In the closet of the house
Of Mrs Pevensie the widow.
Boy grew to be an oddball
And moved under the house
Into the dingy cellar below.
Bent over and crooked,
Boy made an ugly view,
With knobbly knees and pasty skin
And a face all made askew.
His hair was rank
His body stank;
His redeeming features were few.
Boy soon became lonely
For love, for tenderness.
He became so very lonely
That he started to obsess,
That he was the one and only
Person left all on his own.
One night, when none were stirring
Throughout the still and silent house,
Boy brushed off the cobwebs
And shook off all the dust.
Ragged like a scarecrow
And covered all in rust,
Boy sneaked forth from his cellar
Moving quiet as a mouse.
He crept out like a shadow
Drifting through the empty rooms
Of Widow Pevensie’s household.
Up the crooked stairs,
Creaking underfoot,
Boy searched out companions
In every darkened nook.
None were in the kitchen,
The larder and pantry were bare,
Boy checked throughout the servants’ rooms
But nobody was there-
Sitting room and dining room,
Conservatory and office,
All were empty, lonely places
All bleak, all without promise.
So up the stairs Boy crept,
Up to where the mistress slept.
And in a large bedroom with rich wall hangings,
With a four poster bed, so warmly furnished,
Where goblets glimmered and diamonds flickered,
Where silver sparkled and gold was burnished,
Mrs Pevensie was preparing for bed.
Up she looked as Moth Boy entered
And her face turned ghostly pale,
Her limbs went stiff, her blood ran cold
And her heart began to fail.
Down she laid then, cold and dead,
As Moth Boy approached, his hands outstretched.
And with that corpse a life he played
Lonely no longer, with his cadaver maid.
In a list
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I normally find your work smooth, this time it was hard work. It's not up to your normal standard, maybe it's the length.
. Rewarded 4
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His attempt to be both succinct and obscure has rendered the poem an oddity controlled. Almost as if someone was attempting to view a grotesque thought through a rational lens. I find it unique and amusing with spots of brilliance throughout. Ty for posting.
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Truthfully...
I'm struggling with this one. It's interesting. I'm curious why you call him moth boy in the title but only boy all through the story. I think the rhythm is off a little in spots. You could fix it by splitting you lines in spots and dropping or adding words in others. Example:
Bent over and crooked
Boy made an ugly view
knobbly knees, pasty skin
a face made all askew.
His hair was rank
His body stank
His redeeming
features were few.
Ofcourse that's only my opinion. You know I think you're a great poet. If I'm just not getting something or I'm way off base let me know.
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scary but good.
i really liked this poem a lot. it reminds me of edgar allen poe. (and i kept picturing the boy as a huge creep with a hunchback) haha -
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cheers for the comment- i see what you mean about him being a creep, i kinda had jack from nightmare before christmas i mind when i wrote thise
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