Pulled across the razors edge by John DeBona

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Pulled across the razors edge

The honorless, you sit in a pathetic pool of shit.
You think you took the one I love? You fool!
You don't have a clue of what's important to me.
You think you rake me over coals?
I'll let you believe that as you bleed to death.
Pulled across the razors edge.
Drawn and quartered.
With your head stuck on the end of a spear.
I stroll by and pay homage to the fallen hero.

John DeBona

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George P. Stasiuk (1/4/2007 11:15:00 AM)
NOW THIS IS SEETHING, ANGRY VENGEANCE! BRILLIANT AND SENDS THE MESSAGE, WELL, IN RAPIER-LIKE FASHION. Highest marks for expressing emotions so succinctly and describing one constant aspect of the male animal so triumphantly. I think of Alexander the Great and his campaigns into Scythia and beyond, and medieval retribution. To paraphrase Mohandas K. Ghandi, 'if all you have left is a head on a spear, carry it proudly.'

; -) > George, *needed to wake up to wrath-filled art today*

Vincent James Turner (1/4/2007 10:49:00 AM)
hard hitting and bitter. I love it, also a fantastic choice of title, really fits the poem well. the end line is also great, i have read this poem a few times now and each time it gets better.

grand work

Robin

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