After the end (Draft).


Enmasse, a paragon
of dreaming sickens me
all stemmed from the title of the womb
a prolog as differing

as the blue screen; I browse
every word in partition
letting mental fragments

in quietly
the creosote, of my place,

to ache in my chest


Laves no word,
there’s now a heritage amputated
from the forebear, a ursine end
with a geometry quietness; no one
wants to hold him now

this would always be
the self-suicide, generous with

mock-god, this is the design
we look back to again.

© 2022 Pseudopsychosis All Rights Reserved.

Written for the dVerse 05/30/22 quadrille prompt: Browse.

I wrote two quadrilles (again). The second one is a continuation but does not include the word browse. I am saddened, as many others are, and angered at recent U.S. events which I describe–albeit vaguely–throughout this draft.

32 thoughts on “After the end (Draft).”

    1. Thank you so much, and I’m really glad you said that about those lines; I know everyone has their own concepts concerning religion and spirituality, but often, we direct blame at a higher power. There is free-will, but we get lost in the depth of tragedy especially when we feel it could have been prevented. I don’t know if that made sense, just some more of my ramblings lol. Thanks for tolerating me, Tricia. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  1. A double 44 — cool Lucy! And both stinging and poignant my friend — strong shit! It was great seeing your picture. I am do glad I have your face to enhance your name. Beautiful probing eyes…


    1. Tzvi, I really like that thought. That’s interesting to me; I find we are shrouded in the realm of shadows–they show themselves to us everyday when there is another death on the screen. It’s distant, but it’s emotional. Of course, when I say distant, I mean that we are not… experiencing the tragedy directly; there is a silent suffering when we glimpse at the chaos before our eyes.

      Thank you for reading my work.


    1. Thank you, Dominic, so much. I try to avoid writing on these tragedies because I know it’s not my story to tell and take attention away from, though I’m overcome by emotions of anger, sadness, and disappointment that I needed to vent through my writing this time.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Indeed. You really can’t look away–there’s something to be said about that whether it be from horror, shock, terror, or fear–or all of the above. Every time these tragedies happen, we are helpless witnesses of it and yet nothing changes. It is the modus operandi, the ball-room dance we sway to until another mass shooting takes place, and the cycle repeats. I cannot look away in particular because nothing will happen, no middle ground will be reached, I don’t think.


  2. You have said it very well in your poem! Watching the bluescreen and the talking heads just leaves us with hearts full of creosote! Such a sad commentary on tour human race we see playing out right before our eyes!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dwight, thank you and I’m glad you caught the creosote line. I saw a poet on WP (I wish I remembered their user) who used the word and compared it with ash as they too were writing about the recent school shootings. It was a beautiful piece, and hopefully, I’ll find it again so I can link it.

      These events are really horrible, and I just needed to let my emotions out about it even if nothing changes.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. You doubled my reading experience … a difficult read and so hard to process the world we live in, the horror, the frustration, the devastation. Well done, Ms. Lucy.

    Liked by 2 people

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