From All-Creatures.org

Poetry By Carl Porten

The upside down...

A stranger thing,
is humanity’s show,
with so much upside down
in this world that I know.

Have you seen upside down?
It’s a side that few see.
‘Cause most won’t admit
that it lays there neath their feet,

it’s our world reflected
refracted through lies,
in a world ruled by pain
where lives end with sharp knives.

Where monsters roam rampant
like fe fi fo fum,
I smell the blood
an’ I’ll cut throats for fun.

For pleasure for prophet,
this upside down,
in this dark house of horrors
laid under the ground,

Only seen by those traveled
who’ve walked through loves rain,
an’ won’t help seal more coffins
with nails forged by pain.

Those people cry out,
begging for rescue,
while you fail to hear,
upside downs rite below you

tearing hearts open
with ropes chains an’ hooks,
stealing babies from mothers,
upside down were all crooks.

Their torcher won’t let,
not a minute in time
in their upside down
from their bodies an’ minds.

Living in fear,
in upside down,
there’s no room for a funeral,
or hole in the ground.

But die as they lived,
only ten fold now fear,
as crashing sledge hammers
bring death angels near.

One blow...two blows,
three blows, four.
Scared beyond fear
but there’ll be one more.

Hung upside down,
through horror filled eyes,
in upside down worlds
watching saw blades swing by.

In an upside down world,
their throats cut, its done,
all soon to be served up
with fries on a bun.

We know upside down,
an’ must do what is rite,
so fe fi fo fum
an’ fight monsters at night.

Our rite way up,
is the wrong way around...
... an’ ‘till all are set free,
there will be upside down...

 

Poetry © 2022 Carl Porten

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