- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Dementia Preacox
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Click hereDementia Praecox
Crow's feet
And pouches under the eyes;
A touch of grey at the temples too,
Elegant, of course
Elegant, yes, and rotten within
Festering with desires unfed
Desires chained, held captive, subjugated.
But the devil too,
Does take his due,
Brings back to you,
That which you thought had renounced,
To redeem yourself as a man.
Today you dream of all those dreams
Which you in your youth condemned
As sentimental crap.
Today you lament
Crows feet
And pouches under the eyes,
A touch of grey at the temples too;
(Elegant, of course)
Forty-eight years worth of life
And are you a man today?
- COMMENTS
LeBrozover 16 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,000 poems.
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Anonymousabout 20 years agoit is a great poem. and i am nitpicking. but "dementia praecox", not "preacox."
when one uses latin words to express concepts, one should endeavour to spell them correctly. :)it takes away from the professionalism of an otherwise excellent poem.
Anonymousabout 20 years agoThere are plenty of hair colorants and wrinkle removing products available, but what of scars on the soul . . .?
amansabout 20 years agoI have a regular date with Miss Clairol, in a futile attempt coat grey hair back to youthful brown. It always shines silver near my ears. The color will not adhere. The sounds of life must wear the color away there. Angelina is right. This is not just a "Man's" poem. I relate.
