All poems by James V. Scibetta, © 1996.
Interlight Main | Poetry Section #1 | Poetry Section #2 | "The Rants"
Television
White knuckle grip
On a sofa called doom
Glowing box named cyclops
Illuminates the room
Spittle stream runs down
The pale albino chin
Doesn't really know
The state he's living in
Baseball, basketball, football
Oprah, Geraldo and Phil
Time to swallow another
Tasty electronic pill
Eyeballs turn to jelly
Ooze onto the floor
Dogs and plants and insects
Are knocking on the door
Don't be scared they tell him
You'll never feel a thing
We're all on the same wavelength
And television is king.
Outercourse
Test tubes and scalpels
Are the new tools
For creating good little girls and boys,
Put just the right seasoning
In the DNA soup
So they'll play with the right kinds of toys.
And watch as they grow
To the same size and weight
With blonde hair and little blue eyes,
And sleep soundly at night
Knowing full well
That they'll never tell anyone lies.
O' isn't it fun
Creating a child
Nothing is left to risk,
But I can't help but think
Late at night when I'm alone,
There is something that I very sadly miss.
Requiem for the Flesh
Senses numbed
Barely able
Change the channel
On the cable
Staring too long
Into bright light
Cannot tell
If day or night
Images blending
Into real life
From static air
I pull the knife
Plunge it deep
Into the vein
Instantly
I feel the pain
Peel off the mask
Look to my side
Fiber optic cable
Split open wide.
Gizmology
Gadgets stalk me in my house
There's no place for man or mouse
With fire hose I'll give a douse
To these electric creatures.
There's no time for fun and play
Keeping digital bugs away
I hope to live another day
Without these modern features.
Still the toaster burns me
The disposer churns me
The TV eats my brain
The fridge will freeze me
The camera sees me
It's laughing at my pain.
Let's rip all plugs out from the wall
Walk silently on down the hall
Find breaker box with switch so small
We'll shut these darn things down.
Push the button-off it goes
Instantly in darkness' throes
How strangely this will juxtapose
When my flashlight can't be found!
And still the toaster burns me
The disposer churns me
The TV eats my brain
The fridge will freeze me
The camera sees me
It's laughing at my pain.
Electric Sphincter
Glue your face to the tv screen
Mesmerized by it's glowing sheen
Smear the ray tube with vaseline
Let it take you where you've never been.
Choke on chunks of rotting spew
Demographic demons laugh at you
Think you're learning things you never knew
I tell you this it's digital voodoo.
Electric sphincter burning bright
Throbs and pulsates through the night
Waiting for a victim when the timing's right
Destroy all brain cells without a fight.
Rub the box like a magic lamp
Increase the rhythm 'til your pants turn damp
Whip into a frenzy like you're with a vamp
You've just gone off the mental exit ramp.
Gnawing on the edges of the electronic eye
Soul absorbed into the magnetic lie
Don't stop to think or question why
You are now living in the tv sty.
Electric sphincter burning bright
Throbs and pulsates through the night
Waiting for a victim when the timing's right
Destroy all brain cells without a fight.
Dance of the Doomed Techno-Zombies
Hook your feeble mind
Into the cable line
Your blackened little soul
Will soon begin to glow
Now I'm in control
Of all you brain dead trolls
You'll do what I say
Or I'll take your plug away
So send me all your cash
Steal from your parent's stash
It won't hurt a bit
As I pull you in the pit
You can scream and shout
For someone to pull you out
But it's too late for that
Your'e in the fiery vat.
Not Me
It's 4 in the morning
I'm staring at the ceiling
A tense nervous wreck
Inner voices screaming
"pick up your pen" they say
"and scribble down these words
Or we'll send you a plague
Like in Hitchcock's "the birds"
"they'll pluck out your eyes
They'll rip out your guts"
I can hardly believe this
Have I gone nuts?
This chorus of laughter
Within my throbbing head
They've taken control
As I squirm in my bed.
So what you are now reading
Isn't really me
There is nothing I can do
I am no longer free.
My Nightstand
When I get home
I take off my head
Set it on nightstand
Next to my bed.
It helps me rest easier
With nothing to think
Plus no need to eat
And no need to drink.
It also eliminates
My keen sense of smell
Of strange wafting odors
No more can I tell.
There are many more reasons
Why I like it this way
Especially at times
Like I had today.
Where fools and idiots
Were running amuck
My conventional life
In which I’m stuck.
But that is OK
Now I am home
Where I can be
By myself all alone.
I'm surrounded by nothing
My favorite thing
No senseless noise
No telephone ring.
So that's really all
That can be said
About my nightstand
That's next to my bed.
Suburban Rites
Precisely manicured lawns
In cul-de-sacs
Silently cry out in pain
As their lives are
Sprayed
Trimmed
Bagged
Boxed
And
Burned
In a modern suburban ritual
To a modern suburban god.
Just Another Night
It's about thirty past midnight
And I'm staring at thick black
It settles like a plague
Across my pale back
I choke with apprehension
Of what this all means
I'm frozen and horrified
Because here come my dreams.
Brilliant jagged lightning
Strobes in colours orange and red
Rips through the ceiling
It shreds my sweat drenched bed
The room is aglow
With vapors green and blue
My eyes are clamped shut
But everything is in view.
The demons are dancing
Upon my broken spirit
My ears are plugged with concrete
But I can still hear it
Their shrill shrieks and howling
Filled with wild crazy lust
I open my eyes but
They pour out as dust.
Oh god I can't stand this
How much more can I endure
Please take this anguished soul
And make it clean and pure
But before I can utter
This last pathetic plea
My body is wrenched
With vile leprosy.
I'm cracked and I'm caked
With dried pus and vomit
When will this end
Can I ever stop it
I've never done anyone
Or anything any harm
This will be my last breath...
The Road To Heaven
This road to heaven is lined
With
Shimmering surface sliders
Sugar sheen pale riders
Concrete flesh colliders
Seeking freedom
Behind
Other bars
Classy cars
Trashy stars
By ways and means
Like
Thick LA days
The deathly haze
A collapsing maze
Of wrenching tranquillity
It brings a festering happiness
To those that desire
That breath of fire
And
It finally dislodges
From the pit
Of superficial meaning
And
Is hacked
Like a scab
Into
The black river
Of
A petroleum anointed Vegas.
The End
Please give me a chisel
So that I can break my mold
My dreams have all but fizzled
And I’m feeling very old
This nervous breakdown
Has got me on the edge
It's life's final takedown
Going to push me off the ledge.
Voices in the shadows
Strange visions in the hall
Running to the gallows
As I scribble on the wall
Exit arrows pointing back
I better turn around
Screaming frenzy shock attack
Doesn't make a sound.
Chew my nails right to the bone
Flesh is cracking off
Living in the twilight zone
My angels float and scoff
Looking for a bridge to cross
This chasm up ahead
Surely won't be such a loss
If I should end up dead.
But I’m as good as gone right now
The walls are closing in
On my shoulder sits a crow
He's pecking on my chin
Worms are crawling up my pants
I cannot shake them loose
I start to do my final dance
And put my head into the noose.
Mastermind
Armor plated maggots
Drilled deep into my brain
They think they'll cause me harm
They think they'll cause me pain
But they don't know just what's in store
For their pus filled little bods
I'll grind them into micro slag
Then spit their twitching wads.
My brain it floats in an acid bath
With ancient oozing sores
A million years of energy
Go blasting through it's pores
It resonates with eternal winds
Through endless caverns blow
Random array's of dark black pits
With bottom's no one knows
So let the weak be warned
That no one should enter in
Once in my brain there's no escape
You're never going to win!
Cold Bulb
You lay on your back and stare at the light
That hangs from the ceiling above
The cold bulb reflects
Just what it expects
As it fights the dark chill of your love.
There's a pall in the air it's so thick with despair
That you're gagging with each and every breath
You try to calm down
But peace cannot be found
And you're dying just another slow death.
You're a ship lost at sea and you'll never be free
Of that prison which life has you cast
So you cling to your dreams
And rip at the seams
Of a future that is doomed to the past.
The Living Dead Waltz
The living dead waltz into the spotlight
dripping with hubris
self absorbed and swollen
gagging on their thick black tongues
and tripping over maggoty mounds of the
meaningless feces spewed
through cosmetically mutated orifices.
Surgically implanted salt bags
bounce to the rhythm of the dead and dying.
Decaying sideshow caricatures
peddling wares to worshipers of the dead.
This is the music of the damned...
These are the movies of the doomed...
And all in dying color.
The Late Nineties
Soul factory is empty,
a broken down hulk of hopes and dreams crushed beneath
man’s desire to live free of moral responsibilities.
Each day reveals another in a long list of absurdities,
monuments to a dysfunctional culture
entranced by its own demise.
I laugh as I watch the drama unfold,
oj, madonna, shallow sports entertainment puppets
designed for you and your valueless lifestyle.
Capital letters are no longer deserved.
Honor gives way to lust and greed,
to dominate and immerse the self in a luxury
that will end in the pits of hell, an eternal boiling
pus filled caricature of a former life that once had
possibilities of an incredibly infinite nature.
And you will whine like a rat,
crushed beneath the wheels of a ten megaton train
that is gnashing its way to oblivion.
Road Scraps
Twisted metal wreckage
Limb strewn asphalt zone
Splattered entrail carnage
This one won't be home.
2 ton skull and cross bones
Careens from rail to rail
Drunk stoned pilot bozo
Rains down fiery hail.
Brain dead blind and angry
Blood boils in the veins
Hubris powered thrasher
Play chicken with diesel train.
Picture license to a thrill
Flaming leather love machine
Zero know to seek a kill
A tragedy home will bring.
E=Quality
Some are stupid
Some are not
In the end
We all will rot
Worms and maggots
Don't read diplomas
The just love
Decay's aromas.
Interlight Main | Poetry Section #1 | Poetry Section #2 | "The Rants"