Perspective Shift
Haiku
One thousand thoughts drift
through jello’d hippocampus
Back against carpet
About the Creator
Matthew J. Fromm
Full-time nerd, history enthusiast, and proprietor of arcane knowledge.
Here there be dragons, knights, castles, and quests (plus the occasional dose of absurdity).
I can be reached at [email protected]
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More stories from Matthew J. Fromm and writers in Poets and other communities.
Throne of the Beast
“Lock and load.” Knight One’s command echoed through his helmet, drowning out the helo’s thumping engines. Knight Two sat across from him, his mechanical gloves thumbing the safety on his oversized auto shotgun clad in etched black metal. Knight Four scoffed silently, his face obscured by the jet-black helmet. An uncivilized weapon for an uncivilized man. There are already enough of those in this godless world. Two always seemed unsettling, like a big frothing dog in a constant internal struggle of, “Should I bite or hump my master?” It was no wonder Callsign General loved Two, even if Callsign Archbishop barely tolerated him. One was the Archbishop's girl.
By Matthew J. FrommExclusive • 2 years ago
Pornographic Venn Diagramming
It's all performative, all damned to death and back. Born we are into this system of crippled development. Portrayed as enlightenment, but the reality is anything but. . I have long rallied against such realities, despite the burial of my past innocence, forgotten sanctity. . I wrote down some thoughts: . Well hallelujah Spread thin Tongue twisting tautogrammic takes of trauma and triumph Male shame and toxicity mixed with a little alienation and Oh oh the resentment Wafer thin . Xenophobia and the hardened husk of hatred and illegitimate anger and distrust we have become . . Desperation . . The secret language of the sextape . . Pornographic Venn diagramming . The shame, oh the . Shame? . Generation after generation closed off and colder . Heart unresponsive as the irresponsible as the moral vocal cords for the majority . . Minorities kerbed, chided . . We become the grotesque we loathe . . All our yesterdays forgotten The abstract replaces the grounded In an instant . . We become the loathsome grotesque . . All our tomorrows forgotten The grounded replaces the pure In an instant . . We become the grotesque we loathe . . I have become that which I hate. As I bring down the hammer of the gods of inconsequence and their wards, the stupid and stationary, I feel the shame. . . Shame? . . Slàinte. . . Merci beaucoup Oui, oui Ventus, ventus. . . Lilith adores. Diana engorges the might of Artemis and the cynicism of Perseus. . . As I look to the mirror and dismay shoots through like a sgian-dubh of truth, claidheamh-mòr, I lift my Lochaber axe and punish the impure because I dare not face my own. Targe laid down. The dirk plunges into my neck by the phantom of reason. . . Fire. Fire. Fire. . . Water. Ice. . . Novocaine. . . Any D&D players available.Start writing...
By Paul Stewart4 days ago in Poets
Comments (5)
Very philosophical, Matthew.
I want to enter that attic door upside down! That would be my thoughts! 😁 We don’t have those in Australia so a bit of a novelty. This was original and completely nails the brief Matt. The pic helps prove it happened!
I get perspective shift...these days they wobble a lot. But this pic...echoing AJ below.
Ha! For a quick second, I didn't know what the heck was going on in the pic. I thought those pull-down stairs were a normal door. I didn't see the light fixture at first. So, it was def a perspective shift for me when i saw the tops of actual doorways, lol.
Did you just revert to being a bored teenager during spring break?