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This thread was created on September 22, 2008
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The Jackals
Topic ID: 36359
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The Cheshire Cat
Writer
Gender: 
Age: 15
Joined: 15 Sep 2008
Posts: 83
Reviews: 27
Country: USA
297 Points
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 Posted: Mon Sep 22, 2008 11:09 pm Post subject: The Jackals |
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The Jackals come at night
They come and sing their song
They laugh their crooked laugh
They try to get me
They have
Ever since that day
The day the night ate the moon.
Indeed They say I’m crazy
They hiss like snakes in glee
And scratch at my doors
I try to keep them at bay
Books help me
Soaked with death; Soaked with Gasoline
I can keep the Jackals away
With my bonfires, my beacons
My burning words, my burning books
The Jackals come at night
When no one else is up
No one believes me anyway
I’m crazy
I’m crazy
I’m crazy
But they are there!
Oh Lord, there they sit!
Every night they come to take me away!
Those Wretched Devils!
Some nights I sit at the window
I scream at them
Scream at the top of my lungs
Shriek like a banshee
I shoot at them
Throw things at them
Until they begin to slink into the shadows
But then I know that the police are not far away
So I run to my room
And slip under the covers
And hide my head
And pretend I was sleeping the whole time
My house is nearly empty now
No more things to burn
No more things to burn
No more things to burn
Then they will come
Do you think I’m mad?
You do you do you do!
But one day you will see
One day the jackals will come to your door!
They have come for me now
As I write this with haste
They are chewing at the door
They will be here soon
A word of advice, my dears
Before they come for my soul
When the jackals come a-knocking
Please don’t open the door.
_________________________
I wrote this at three in the morning |
_________________
James Bond: Do you expect me to talk?
Goldfinger: No Mister Bond, I expect you to die! |
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vox nihili
Senior Writer
Gender:
Age: 13
Joined: 18 Sep 2008
Posts: 118
Reviews: 46
Country: There's no frigate like a book...
556 Points
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| Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2008 12:09 am Post subject: |
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| Pretty creative. It sounds like something a schizophrenic would write, especially with the sense of outside powers...creepy! It seems kind of different. Do you mean jackals, like the half-dog looking thing that lives in Egypt? Or is this a metaphor? You need a little more punctuation, that is in my opinion, although there isn't a rule about periods in poetry. I love the ending, the warning you give. It's so cool. |
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If you can't write the music's notes, ride them and enjoy the flow, like the flow of a mountain stream, and hang on to the melody, because like breath in the winter air, it's there, and then gone. |
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ChurlishLassy
Writer
Age: 16
Joined: 13 Apr 2007
Posts: 91
Reviews: 38
Country: Ethiopia
300 Points
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| Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2008 1:16 am Post subject: |
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| I hadn't intended to read the entire thing but somehow I did. I would either make the voice clearly crazy or the jackels clearly a metaphor, but this may be because my favorite poem goes like, "come closer join hands and make blieve joined hands will keep away the wolfs of water who howl along our coast," which in context is a clear metaphor. |
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The man who doesn't read good books has no advantage over the man who can't read them.
Go to heaven for the climate or hell for the company.
The clothes make the man, naked people have little or no effect on society.-Mark Twain |
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| This thread was created on September 22, 2008 |
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