Incriminations I'm running scared, Tripping over branches, Stumbling into holes. I'm fleeing an act I can never remember committing, Cannot believe I could have done. The crime hangs Like an icicle: Beautiful And alluring, But with one break- Deadly. Frightened, Terrified, Running through the darkness Shrouding the events, Shadowing my actions, And hiding my thoughts, Making me question Whether I could, Or did, Commit the cruelties That all paths Seem to point to. I huddle Quivering, My body And mind Crushed by a fear Of the damage that is to follow For something: I cannot recall, I cannot believe - I cannot disprove. The River Below revised staring down at its rippled surface of foam and mirrors, as the current embraces the rocks and the stones, and then overpowers, and flows over. the waters seem so crisp and so cold, freezing the eyes as the icy winds freeze the body. as i stare down at the small figure of my reflection, my foot slides on the icy metal railing, and I start to fall forward: soaring through the sky. until I find a new beginning, in this ending. The Master Plan Her hair draped down Over the face Swollen with tears. Her body shivered As she swung, With an unearthly rhythm, Back and forth Upon her knees. Her pale hands Clamped together, Turned to a light purple As she strangled The air before her. With a moan Deep from within, She swung back her head. The long sweep Of her stringy black hair, Exposed the face Masked with streaks Mapping the path of tears, As they slid so easily Down her face. Her eyes shown red, As the pain That dripped from her eyes Took their toll. Her pale, pink lips Sat in some wicked show, With patches of teeth showing Between patches Of blood escaping, And the bubbles Foaming out. Looking up From her prostrate position, She screamed pain From the raw throats Of her eyes. Then her deathly lips parted, And the demon possessing the broken, Screamed out In a voice Sharp enough to draw blood, "Help me! " The sound sickening, "Save me! " The plea, Wrapped in the fright Of her condition, And the pain Of her position. She moaned and groaned, Rocking back and forth, As if the dance Would invite the devilish parties That would grant her wish. Her eyes rolled, Showing barren patches of white: Laying blank The slate That had once mapped Her life, But which had been wiped By the pain. Her awkward pleas For a savior Rang out In a spasmodic rhythm. But her beckonings Drew the soul To grant her final wishes. A hand rose, The veins standing still Right below the surface. Holding tight, The hand aimed The piece of metal, With barrel pointing towards The pleading woman. The roar, The shock, As the weapon burst forth Its present. The woman's contorted face, Froze momentarily As recognition Filled her shattered mind. And in the last moments, Her distorted lips Turned to a smile: Wicked, But a smile. Her head fragmented, Her body disappeared Into a mess of parts She would no longer need, But her pain Had ended, And her paradise Had begun. The hand lowered, The weapon fell. As the realization of the trigger Became the realization Of the mind. A scream rang out, As another body fell To its knees: Contorted, Distorted- Your own. Teach Me Mr. Mass Murderer Can you teach me your trade, Can you show me how to kill With a rifle or a blade? Mr. Drug Dealer, Can you teach me your transactions, Can you show me how to sell To addict to satisfaction? Mr. Raging Rapist Can you teach me your occupation, Can you show me how to take To pillage till copulation? Blade Runs Deep The wicked blade of steel Sheathed in the innocence of skin, The helpless blood Drips from the fatal wound. The collection of life's liquid The pool of God's gift, The slow trickling of life Exiled from life itself. Serenity Shattered The neighborhood quiet Just a few kids outside, The soft summer's breeze On a cool August evening. The doors to the houses Stood open to the outside, The sound of the t.v's Floated in the air. All was normal In most of the houses, But in one It was highly unusual. The small town's morals Were lost to this couple, The wife had cheated And the husband had found out. The husband's hunting rifle Lay on the living room sofa, An empty shell lay on the floor The round in the wife's skull. The cold blood dripped on the carpet The stiff body with its wicked smile, And the husband was hanging In the foul-smelling kitchen. Icicle I saw it, Glistening. The long, shiny icicle, Hanging from the porch eave. The cold, harshness of it. The mysterious aura around it. The gentle, Rhythmic drip, Of the melting ice. You, Standing, Your face all aglow. No worries, Cold ever bother, Your perfect White Christmas. But it was not as easy as it seemed, For your plan had but one flaw: You rubbed me the wrong way, And I've had enough. I picked up a rock, Aimed with precision, Threw with blinding speed. The icicle drilled through your skull, Killing you instantaneously. Black and White The world has turned Into an old black & white movie, The cold breeze blowing Down the deserted city street. The pools of water From the gently falling rain, The solitary streetlights Reflecting on the silvery puddle. The empty stores Lining the deserted way, The occasional sound of traffic Braking the still in the air. The ear-piercing scream Followed by a single shot, The movement of a shadowy figure And the getaway of the killer's car. The body lay sprawled On the ice-cold sidewalk, The blood trickled From the once youthful woman. Her head blown open The contents thrown everywhere, The collection of blood Staining the ground red. A Leap of Faith water still and tainted, by the murky agents of some evil plot to ruin beauty in its natural form. the front of my small craft split the water like the parting of Moses', I made my way farther into the interior of this dead lake. staring over the side, onto the silty surface, I saw a muddy reflection of me. but in that distortion, I saw truth and reality. my mind filled with new light, from the contortions of the light overhead. I stood, shaking the boat from side to side. I looked out, I looked, and I jumped....

Incriminations I'm running scared, Tripping over branches, Stumbling into holes. I'm fleeing an act I can never remember committing, Cannot believe I could have done. The crime hangs Like an icicle: Beautiful And alluring, But with one break- Deadly. Frightened, Terrified, Running through the darkness Shrouding the events, Shadowing my actions, And hiding my thoughts, Making me question Whether I could, Or did, Commit the cruelties That all paths Seem to point to. I huddle Quivering, My body And mind Crushed by a fear Of the damage that is to follow For something: I cannot recall, I cannot believe - I cannot disprove. The River Below revised staring down at its rippled surface of foam and mirrors, as the current embraces the rocks and the stones, and then overpowers, and flows over. the waters seem so crisp and so cold, freezing the eyes as the icy winds freeze the body. as i stare down at the small figure of my reflection, my foot slides on the icy metal railing, and I start to fall forward: soaring through the sky. until I find a new beginning, in this ending. The Master Plan Her hair draped down Over the face Swollen with tears. Her body shivered As she swung, With an unearthly rhythm, Back and forth Upon her knees. Her pale hands Clamped together, Turned to a light purple As she strangled The air before her. With a moan Deep from within, She swung back her head. The long sweep Of her stringy black hair, Exposed the face Masked with streaks Mapping the path of tears, As they slid so easily Down her face. Her eyes shown red, As the pain That dripped from her eyes Took their toll. Her pale, pink lips Sat in some wicked show, With patches of teeth showing Between patches Of blood escaping, And the bubbles Foaming out. Looking up From her prostrate position, She screamed pain From the raw throats Of her eyes. Then her deathly lips parted, And the demon possessing the broken, Screamed out In a voice Sharp enough to draw blood, "Help me! " The sound sickening, "Save me! " The plea, Wrapped in the fright Of her condition, And the pain Of her position. She moaned and groaned, Rocking back and forth, As if the dance Would invite the devilish parties That would grant her wish. Her eyes rolled, Showing barren patches of white: Laying blank The slate That had once mapped Her life, But which had been wiped By the pain. Her awkward pleas For a savior Rang out In a spasmodic rhythm. But her beckonings Drew the soul To grant her final wishes. A hand rose, The veins standing still Right below the surface. Holding tight, The hand aimed The piece of metal, With barrel pointing towards The pleading woman. The roar, The shock, As the weapon burst forth Its present. The woman's contorted face, Froze momentarily As recognition Filled her shattered mind. And in the last moments, Her distorted lips Turned to a smile: Wicked, But a smile. Her head fragmented, Her body disappeared Into a mess of parts She would no longer need, But her pain Had ended, And her paradise Had begun. The hand lowered, The weapon fell. As the realization of the trigger Became the realization Of the mind. A scream rang out, As another body fell To its knees: Contorted, Distorted- Your own. Teach Me Mr. Mass Murderer Can you teach me your trade, Can you show me how to kill With a rifle or a blade? Mr. Drug Dealer, Can you teach me your transactions, Can you show me how to sell To addict to satisfaction? Mr. Raging Rapist Can you teach me your occupation, Can you show me how to take To pillage till copulation? Blade Runs Deep The wicked blade of steel Sheathed in the innocence of skin, The helpless blood Drips from the fatal wound. The collection of life's liquid The pool of God's gift, The slow trickling of life Exiled from life itself. Serenity Shattered The neighborhood quiet Just a few kids outside, The soft summer's breeze On a cool August evening. The doors to the houses Stood open to the outside, The sound of the t.v's Floated in the air. All was normal In most of the houses, But in one It was highly unusual. The small town's morals Were lost to this couple, The wife had cheated And the husband had found out. The husband's hunting rifle Lay on the living room sofa, An empty shell lay on the floor The round in the wife's skull. The cold blood dripped on the carpet The stiff body with its wicked smile, And the husband was hanging In the foul-smelling kitchen. Icicle I saw it, Glistening. The long, shiny icicle, Hanging from the porch eave. The cold, harshness of it. The mysterious aura around it. The gentle, Rhythmic drip, Of the melting ice. You, Standing, Your face all aglow. No worries, Cold ever bother, Your perfect White Christmas. But it was not as easy as it seemed, For your plan had but one flaw: You rubbed me the wrong way, And I've had enough. I picked up a rock, Aimed with precision, Threw with blinding speed. The icicle drilled through your skull, Killing you instantaneously. Black and White The world has turned Into an old black & white movie, The cold breeze blowing Down the deserted city street. The pools of water From the gently falling rain, The solitary streetlights Reflecting on the silvery puddle. The empty stores Lining the deserted way, The occasional sound of traffic Braking the still in the air. The ear-piercing scream Followed by a single shot, The movement of a shadowy figure And the getaway of the killer's car. The body lay sprawled On the ice-cold sidewalk, The blood trickled From the once youthful woman. Her head blown open The contents thrown everywhere, The collection of blood Staining the ground red. A Leap of Faith water still and tainted, by the murky agents of some evil plot to ruin beauty in its natural form. the front of my small craft split the water like the parting of Moses', I made my way farther into the interior of this dead lake. staring over the side, onto the silty surface, I saw a muddy reflection of me. but in that distortion, I saw truth and reality. my mind filled with new light, from the contortions of the light overhead. I stood, shaking the boat from side to side. I looked out, I looked, and I jumped....

Table of Contents

Words Never Spoken. Copyright © 1991 by Matte Elsbernd. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission.