Bullys Change: Bigger bullies change them. Corporal Punishment - practiced daily with guns. Who is not the point, that it happens - is the point. We are all diminished when a human starves to death, or is traffiked and sold, or introduced to Ecstacy. Evil is evil - change is slow.
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Lady A
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This is my poem dedicated to: This is my poem dedicated to my soulmate after 3 years of separation for destined reasons.I will be loving him till the last breath of my life.Promise to give him this poem the day we get married.
Thank you, sir. And I do: Thank you, sir. And I do understand. It's not my art to offend, and when I must, it is never merely for the sake of offense, but rather to reveal a contradiction. But the title here stems from the literal and real (this was based on a seaming together of serial killers who found god in prison), so it wasn't meant as a slight against a christian's belief in rebirth, but rather a adianoeta to open the door to address the pyschology of the muse. Thereby, please don't take any offense. But your response does further the conversation about how individuals can potentially manipulate a sincere idea for their own purposes.
This is one of the most: This is one of the most powerful evocations I have read in a long, long time. It seems, also, a bit eerie---just enough to be disturbing. Just before reading this, I had just finished watching Carpenter's film, Halloween (1978), so I was serendipitously prepared to experience the effects of this poem. And, much as I like the film (since first seeing it in spring, 1979), I think your poem describes, and evokes, the season much better.
Despite the poem's brevity,: Despite the poem's brevity, the chilling description it provides (with a backstory that, left undefined, adds to the chill) is delightfully frightening, especially at this time of the year. And, in poetry, that is always a difficult effect to accomplish, so I applaud your achievement here. I dislike the title, as the phrase "born again" is important to some of my fellow believers (I like Claudel's term, "co-religionists") in a way that makes its attachment to the term "slasher killer" inappropriate . . . but that is only a personal response, and in no way questions the poem's artistry, especially the open-ended possibilities suggested by that final line.
Thank you, sir. I'm pleased: Thank you, sir. I'm pleased that these words hit your recieving satellites. Let me add that the way you comb through poems, studying each individual strand, is an artform all it's own.
Deep and stirring: I love the various viewpoints
this poem sends thru signals
of your nuanced narration.
There's a skill of perspective:
Between the so-called "killer"
and "the rest of the world"
there is a bunch to think about,
like our place as people in
the judgement of the infinite.