Young Writers Society

Home » Literary works » Poetry » Horror

Sick Shows

by Aleta

Oh, my lover, who killed dearest brother.
I have so much to say to you.
You are a masterpiece; a fatal one,
the way your suave lips curve downward,
into a displeased frown, as if you
Hadn’t known. Maybe you didn’t,
but your little shows are so sick, yet
I admire them. Tell me, says I,
where has Alexander gone?
Sleep walking he did not, not down
the corridor. Not out the door.
Your skin prickles, your hands clammy,
and I know what you’ve done. But
I still play dumb, and I still ask you,
what you have done. Not one,
single word out of your mouth
but yea; I expected so, you’re quiet,
still I continue to wonder and muse,
why’d you holler and wail when Alexander

Did not?

Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.

Is this a review?



User avatar
1080 Reviews

Points: 125
Reviews: 1080

Sun May 28, 2017 1:25 am
Kaylaa wrote a review...

This is Nikayla dropping in for another review on this Review Day.

So you have a lot of content in the Green Room. Which means I'm back for more. Jumping right into the poem, I see that this changes the perspective with there being a 'you' in this poem. Or at least, that this poem is written with another person included in it. The problems that I found in the previous poems of yours that I've reviewed aren't as prominent here, yet I'm still not that fond of this poem for different reasons this time.

It most definitely has a different tone and I can see that you're experimenting with your style. There's less imagery and less of a vocabulary here and more of a focus on the narrative. Though at the same time, the problem of the poem lacking a clear enough theme or emotion that the reader can follow is still present.

I'm saying this as an advocate for open endings and themes or subject matters that let the reader fill in the shoes of the speaker. Themes that aren't as clear or as easily accessible are different from themes that aren't there at all. I'm going to go ahead and assume that the idea or message that you're attempting to get across in this poem is the sick shows that this other person has put on.

What I am confused about in this is--who is this other person? Who is Alexander? Who is the speaker in relation to these two other people? That's the main questions that I have after reading the poem. Is Alexander a friend of the speaker? A brother? I'm confused about that much, and I'd like some clarity there as to who's who. The way in that you write this poem makes that much confusing, and it's that basic information that helps the reader understand the poem. Experiment around with how much you want to keep concealed or subtle and how much you want to clearly reveal to the reader and how much of this you want to make with a narrative-base.

If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask. I hope I helped and have a great day.


User avatar
200 Reviews

Points: 60
Reviews: 200

Thu May 25, 2017 8:33 pm
View Likes
kman134 wrote a review...

Hi. my name is kman134.i'm here to review your work.

This was pretty disturbing and horrific. the emotional tone was dreadful with a hint of sadism. the description of tormented facial expressions was very nice and it gave the horror genre a nice picture. the symbolisms of art and muses emphasizes the murderer's twisted and monstrous personality.

It reminds me of that video game The Masterpiece where the main protagonist is working on a disturbing portrait by using the body parts of his own deceased wife as art equipment. throughout the game, he starts seeing atrocious hallucinations of screaming and the macabre, which explains how everything in his life went downhill and how he became a monster.

Anyways, this was a pretty good poem. i hope to read more of it.

Aleta says...

Oh wow that game sounds like a wild experience.

Thanks for the comment :)

The roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet.
— Aristotle